


A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall

by rosegoldhl (Rosegoldhl)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drunk Sex, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Homeless Louis, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Writer Harry, as always, it's mostly angst to be honest, reference to sexual harrassment but nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosegoldhl/pseuds/rosegoldhl
Summary: Like an automatic machine, Harry opened his marker and stood in front of the customer waiting to write the name and order. “Hi, welcome to the 78 Café, what would you like to order?”“Free tea?”Harry’s eyes snapped to the customer, the voice spreading warmth in his chest. He smiled at the blue-eyed man, who looked cozy in an oversized hoodie, sleepy eyes and tangled hair.Louis is a homeless man and Harry is an uninspired writer, who gives him a home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my WIPs for quite some time. It was my little private pride, because it was the first idea I had for a fic and these are the first words I wrote for this fandom. I think I feel ready to share it with you, hoping that people will like it. 
> 
> I want to thank my beta, [Lena](https://roseandbee.tumblr.com/), who is always there for me, not only to help me with my writing, but also being a true friend. I can't thank you enough. 
> 
> Also thanks to all my friends, who endure my "writer's whining" and always support me and encourage me. I love every single one of you. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Harry was using the old, almost shredded to pieces cloth to scrub the counter clean. There were only three customers in the 78 Café. A single boy, who looked around 19-20 years old and who, judging by his distraught face, was probably studying using his old, overheating laptop. The other customers were two women, who looked quite cozy next to each other,  conversing in low voices and stealing kisses from each other every now and then. 

The evening was quiet, apart from the light rain falling from the grey New York sky. The café was at a good area close to a university campus, and they were usually swarmed with people standing in line for a cup of coffee and some type of pastry, but this evening was the exception to the rule. Everything was quiet, and it was making Harry feel restless. He would prefer it if he was busy, so as not to have time to think. 

Harry had already done everything he was supposed to do. He had changed the coffee machine filters twice, he had arranged -then rearranged- all the pastries and sandwiches at the display window. He had even doodled on the small blackboard, where they wrote “Today’s offer.” They were offering 40% off apple pies that day, so Harry had drawn an apple with eyes, a mouth, arms and legs, giving thumbs up. It was a rather bad drawing, but Harry wasn’t an artist, at least not with his hands. 

He could always whip out his notebook and write a few sentences down, anything really, but inspiration wasn’t on his side lately. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d written more than a paragraph or two. He had managed to scribble a couple of poems, but they were boring and empty. Harry didn’t even bother to publish them on his website, even though he hadn’t updated in more than three months and some of his followers were starting to ask him about new material, leaving their comments under his older works. 

The bell rang as the door opened and closed quickly. Harry perked up, happy that he’d get to do something - even if just for five minutes. He fixed his bun and pushed his glasses back up on his nose, trying to be presentable for the new customer. Of course, he was slightly compromised by the fact that his red apron had a massive stain right where his crotch was, but he was hoping no one could notice it since he was standing behind the counter. He raised his eyes to look at the new customer and felt his jaw drop. 

He gaped as a thin boy of average height and breathtaking beauty walked in, shaking his platinum blonde hair to get rid of the majority of the wetness from the rain outside. His grey hoodie and black sweatpants were drenched, and he looked like he needed some soup or a hot beverage to get his body warmth back. Maybe a cuddle. Harry swallowed hard as the boy approached the counter, his mouth pursed in a thin line, almost like he was pouting. 

“Hi, can I have a black tea with a splash of milk, please?” Harry almost didn’t expect the raspy sound in pair with the British accent that reminded him of home right away. The boy was from England, somewhere north? Harry couldn’t be so sure; he was terrible with assigning accents to regions. “Excuse me,” the boy said impatiently, “did you hear me?” 

Harry snapped out of his trance; it wasn’t like this was the first time he was taken aback by a pretty boy, although he had never seen such blue eyes or cheekbones on a person. “Yes, of course, tea, splash of milk - coming right up. Size?” 

“Large.” 

Harry grabbed the largest cup and held a marker, looking at the man with a kind smile, hoping he didn’t seem creepy. “Name?” 

The man looked around and snorted. “It’s not like you have a full house.” Somehow his comment didn’t sound rude, more like tongue in cheek, so Harry didn’t mind. Maybe that was also because Harry found him really, really cute. “It’s Louis,” the man said anyway, nodding towards the cup in Harry’s hand, eyes lingering on them. 

“Alright,” Harry said with a breathy chuckle that didn’t make any sense. No one said anything funny. Harry was being awkward again. He wrote down ‘Louis’ with nice, big letters and drew a smiley face next to it, just because. “You can sit wherever you want. I’ll call you to take it.” 

“Thanks,” Louis replied and turned around, choosing to sit at a table close to the counter with his back turned to Harry. He whipped out his phone and focused on the screen, seemingly scrolling through a website. Harry prepared the tea with quick, expert hands. He had been working there since his freshman year after all, and had decided to stay after his recent graduation. Instead of calling out for the boy, he decided to take his order to him, as there weren’t other customers in line waiting to be served. 

“Here,” Harry said placing the cup of hot tea in front of the boy, who was startled by Harry’s presence. “I hope you like it. We don’t have the good quality teas like you Brits like them, but I’ve grown up making teas my whole life, so I’m pretty good at it.” 

Louis looked at Harry confused through long, thick eyelashes and picked up the cup, blowing inside the small hole on the lid . He took a sip and his eyes widened in surprise. "This is the first time I drink tea away from home and it’s actually good.” 

“Fellow Brit,” Harry said with a soft smile that unfortunately wasn’t returned. 

“Really? Where from?” 

“Cheshire, but I moved here when I was a kid. I kind of lost my British wit along the way, but it always comes back when I visit. You? Northern, I guess?” 

Louis nodded taking another sip. “You guess right, left the country later than you, though. Too obvious?” 

“Well, I could tell, and I’m horrible at accents.” Harry fidgeted with his apron wanting to sit down and have a discussion with this boy -he seemed so interesting. However, he couldn’t just bother the customers because they were cute. Louis didn’t seem that much engrossed in their conversation anyway, since he turned his attention to his phone right away. “Alright,” Harry said, “enjoy.” 

Louis nodded with a faint smile on his lips and his eyes glued on the screen, before Harry walked back to his position behind the counter for the rest of his shift. He had to serve two more customers in the span of the next half hour, who took their coffee and on-sale apple pies to go. Louis stayed at the café, long after the couple had left, and the university student had given up by saying “fuck it”, loud enough for everyone to hear, as he got up and ran out, laptop in hand. 

Harry sat on a stool he had placed under the counter and got his notebook out of his backpack. Sometimes he wished he had a better job that paid more, but then he wouldn’t be able to sit back and relax. He wouldn’t have the freedom to write down his thoughts, whenever it was a slow day, hoping that one day someone would be interested in them. Harry picked up a pen and started scribbling words down with no particular meaning or intent. 

He reread the sentences, but nothing struck him as particularly inspiring or enthralling. He went to rip the paper from his notebook, but a cough stopped him. He looked up and met blue, intense eyes. 

“Am I interrupting you? You seemed quite focused.” 

“Nope, how can I help you?” Harry asked kindly. He had learned how to be polite even when he wasn’t feeling like it, like the moment after he had managed to screw up three simple phrases of a poem. He wouldn’t allow himself to let his frustration show though. 

“I never paid for the tea, how much is it?” 

Harry saw him opening an almost empty wallet and counting small change to pay for a $2.70 tea. “It’s on the house,” he said determined. He could pay for a cup of tea, no big deal. It wasn’t like he was completely poor, he was just struggling with some bills a few months per year. 

“Um, why?” Louis asked, baffled.

Harry realized he might have offended the man, so he tried to save the situation. “You’re a fellow English man, solidarity in the big, scary city and all.” 

Louis half smiled, which Harry counted as a win. He didn’t look very joyful, and he had sat alone the whole time, either looking at his phone like he expected something, probably some news or a message, or he was staring at the wall opposite to him, either in deep thought or completely void of emotion at times. Harry couldn’t really read him, and he usually was good at reading customers. 

“Thank you,” Louis said and closed his wallet, putting it back in his black backpack, which was filled with patchworks and buttons. “I owe you one.” 

Harry grabbed the towel and started scrubbing the counter again, as if it needed to be done immediately. He just didn’t know what do with his empty, awkward hands. “Will you stay in the city for long?” he asked the man, who was getting ready to leave. 

“Hm?” Louis asked back, distracted by the zipper which was causing him trouble.

“Are you visiting, or did you move here?” Harry should not be invading the customers’ privacy with personal questions, but he was so bored and this man was so fascinating for some reason. Almost as if his presence held a secret. 

Louis wore his backpack and pushed a long, blond strand of hair away from his eyes. “Bit of both, I guess.” His smile was tight, but he didn’t look uncomfortable with the question, and he kept talking. “I was supposed to move here permanently, but plans changed. Now I’m looking for a job, until I have enough money for a ticket. Are you by any chance hiring?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, unfortunately not, but leave a CV, if you want.” 

“No, it’s fine. It’s kind of an urgent thing. I need to find one in the next two days.” 

“For a ticket,” Harry confirmed. “Where are you heading?” 

Louis smirked. “To the cheapest destination?” He sounded unsure of his plan, but quite confident at the same time, as if he didn’t need one. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess somewhere warm. I need a little sun.” 

Harry thought the boy looked tanned enough already, his skin golden, but then again, Harry was so white at the moment that a ray of sun would probably make him burst in flames. “Alright, well, I hope you’ll find a job soon and a cheap ticket for a place with a lot of sun.” 

The door behind Harry opened and Jin came out of the kitchen carrying a crate of water bottles. Harry rushed to help her, and she smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, doll,” she said with a soft voice.

“No problem,” Harry said back as they both placed the crate under the counter. “Are you finished back there?” 

“Almost, you need any help?” 

“With what?” Harry chuckled. 

Jin paused and looked around. “Wow!” she said at the empty café. Her eyes fell on Louis and then she looked back at Harry with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Well, okay, bunny. I’ll come to help you close up as soon as I finish in the back.” Jin stood on her tiptoes and reached for his bun, stealing his elastic band, causing his hair to fall around his shoulders. 

“Hey!” Harry complained with a fake frown, reaching for the top of his head to ruffle his hair and fluff up his curls to make them look presentable. 

“Don’t worry, you look gorgeous.” Jin reassured him with a wink, before she turned around and returned to the back of the café. Harry turned to look at the man still standing there.

Louis gave him the first genuine smile, small and reserved, but it was there and Harry felt warm all over. He wished he had the chance to see it again. But he most probably would not. “Thanks, mate,” Louis said, “and thanks for the tea, too.” Harry nodded. “Gotta go now, let you close up, is it time?” 

“It’s early, but I’ll probably start cleaning up. I doubt we will get any customers at,” he turned his head to look at the big round, vintage clock on the wall above the menus right behind him “10pm.” 

“Is it this quiet usually?” Louis asked looking around at the deserted place. 

“Not always, especially in the morning and early afternoon, there is a bit of a crowd. You just happened to stumble upon one of our slow days.” 

“Did I drive all the customers away?” Louis joked. “Maybe I jinxed the place, you never know.” 

Harry chuckled. “Well, you got a free drink, maybe consider un-jinxing us?” 

“I don’t know how I did it.” 

“Then maybe join me for a drink later to make it up?” 

The words came out of Harry’s mouth out of nowhere; he hadn’t even considered the possibility of asking the gorgeous man out, but apparently his brain was doing that thing again, when it had its own independent thoughts that used Harry’s mouth to come out unfiltered and inappropriate. 

Louis’ smile faltered. “I… Look-“ 

“It’s fine,” Harry stopped him right away, before Louis had the chance to reject him. “I don’t know why I asked, I got carried away.” 

“It’s not that there’s something wrong with asking, or you for that matter, it’s just that… I’m not really… I just got out of a relationship.” 

“Hey, no worries. It’s was inappropriate of me to ask you.” 

Louis’ smile returned, not quite reaching his eyes, but still genuine. “It really wasn’t. I wish- if things weren’t so complicated, I’d probably say yes, because, let’s be honest, I have eyes. But right now life is quite shitty, so yeah. You don’t want to get involved in this mess.” 

Harry wanted to argue that Louis didn’t seem like a mess to him, but he knew better than to argue and push someone who didn’t seem that interested to begin with. Flirting and harassment were separated by a very thin line, and Harry was always careful to never cross it. Louis was rejecting him as politely as he could, and honestly, Harry hadn’t really intended to ask him out in the first place. The man made it clear that his plan was to leave the city as soon as he could, which left no room for romance. But everybody could use at least a friend.

“Anyway, if you feel like talking to a familiar face and have some free tea every now and then, you know your way to the café,” Harry said. 

“Thanks, thank you so much for everything. Bye Curls, I might see you around.” Louis turned around and walked out of the café, before Harry could inform him that his name was actually Harry. Then again, he was thankful that it also kept him from blurting out something else, like how he was hoping to see him again.  

 

~*~

 

Harry opened and closed his apartment door at exactly midnight. Although they had closed the café at 11pm and it was relatively close to home, he had insisted on walking Jin to her apartment first, since her boyfriend was held up in his study group for an assignment that was due the next day. Jin had tried to reassure him she would be fine on her own, but Harry preferred to be sure she would get home safe. 

“Ni? Liam?” he called for his roommates, but no one answered. He sighed and threw his backpack on the ground. Afterwards, he bent down to remove his tan suede boots, leaving them next to Liam’s trainers under the small table next to the door, where they kept their keys and some spare money they might need for an emergency -like not having enough for takeout. 

He walked with socked feet to the kitchen and opened a cupboard to retrieve a packet of instant noodles. He was too tired to try and make a meal out of the things they had in the fridge. Besides, he’d already had an apple pie at work, so he wasn’t exactly hungry. He put some water in the kettle and turned it on, waiting for the water to boil while he emptied the contents of the small, silver packets on his uncooked noodles. He added the boiled water and covered the cup with a plate, before he made a run for his bedroom. 

He had the smallest bedroom, because he was paying the smallest amount of rent out of the three, but he didn’t really care. It consisted only of his bed and a bookcase stuck to the feet of the bed, with a small TV on it, books and his laptop forgotten at the foot of his bed for a week now. He quickly took off his clothes and picked his phone out of his pocket, before he returned to the kitchen in his underwear.

Harry took the cup of noodles with him and went to sit on the couch. He turned on the TV, finding nothing interesting to watch and leaving it on a marathon of old Friends episodes. He let the familiarity of the voices calm him down as he ate. Finishing his simple meal, he returned the cup and fork to the kitchen and went back to the couch, sprawling on it. Harry looked at the screen, not really watching and picked up his phone from the coffee table, typing a message to the  _ Roomies _ group chat. 

 

**H: Hey, L, N, where are you?**

 

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer from Liam. Harry didn’t expect Niall to answer at all. The boy barely remembered he had a phone with him any time he was out, which was almost always. 

 

**Lima: I’m at a colleague’s party, kill me. Niall went to the bar, I will join him later. Wanna come?**

**H: Nah, I’m tired. Working tomorrow noon. Have fun!**

**Lima: Do you want me to bring you anything?**

**H: No, man, I’m fine. Talk to you tomorrow.**

**Lima: Have a good rest.**

 

Harry sighed and pressed the button to switch his home screen off. He left his phone back on the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He knew that he could take advantage of the free time to work on his abandoned book, but honestly, after three edits and hundreds of failed attempts to publish it, he knew it was time to give up. 

When he got accepted by his university of choice in New York, he thought he could take over the world with his words. He obviously chose a literature degree, against his father’s advice, who insisted he should study something business or law related. Harry decided to completely ignore him, and with his mother’s support he went for his dream. Although he graduated with honors and had finished his first book at 21, he still hadn’t managed to get a better job or launch a book deal. His website used to be a way of expression in the past, but after he was rejected for what seemed the millionth time, he lost his will to write. If no one liked what he wrote, then what was the point in doing it? 

He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of all the negative thoughts. Words, unrelated to each other, floated in his head. Words about loneliness and desperation, lost hope and ache for something great, need for something, someone to show him a new path in life. Like on cue, blue eyes made an appearance. He imagined those eyes full of light, although he never saw them in that state. He imagined the skin around the eyes, crinkly on the side. A small nose and thin lips curved to a big smile that revealed a series of sharp teeth that reminded him of a baby lion. Endless cheekbones and a jawline that only people crafted by the gods possessed. 

Harry opened his eyes abruptly, huffing a breath. He knew to whom this face belonged; it took him by surprise when he realized that he had fallen asleep on the couch and the image was a dream. He didn’t ponder over it too much. Louis was the last customer he had seen that day, and he had made an impression on him. That was all. He turned his back to the TV, letting it play as he dozed off again. 

 

~*~

 

Harry worked non-stop the following week. It seemed like the rainy weather, continuing from the previous Wednesday -in combination with their daily Happy Hour from 4pm until 7pm, and their offer on a popular coffee blend- had people lining up in the café and Harry running around like a headless chicken. It was good though. More customers meant less time to occupy his head with silly thoughts, and more tips. It was a welcomed plus, because the the shower faucet in the apartment had completely broken down, and they had to call a repairman since it was their fault. 

That Thursday evening was a bit calmer than the rest of the week, although they still had a full house and there were more people waiting for their orders in line than what they were used to. Jin had come out front to help him with orders, way more graceful, fast and efficient than him. Harry liked to take his time, interact with the customers, throwing a joke here and there, whenever he deemed that the customer wouldn’t mind. 

Like an automatic machine, Harry opened his marker and stood in front of the customer waiting to write the name and order. “Hi, welcome to the 78 Café, what would you like to order?” 

“Free tea?” 

Harry’s eyes snapped to the customer, the voice spreading warmth in his chest. He smiled at the blue-eyed man, who looked cozy in an oversized hoodie, sleepy eyes and tangled hair. 

“Hello, mate,” Harry said, teasingly slipping in an easy accent he hadn’t used in a long time. “Black with a bit of milk?” 

“Yes, please, and make it strong,” Louis’ voice sounded particularly gruff, like he had just woken up, although it was evening. 

Harry wrote on a large cup the order and Louis’ name. “Sit down, and I’ll call you.” 

“Yes, but this time I’m actually paying. I was joking about the free tea.” Louis opened his wallet and gave Harry three $1 bills. Harry accepted the money and put it in the till, before he gave Louis his receipt and change back. “Thank you.” 

Louis turned around and walked to the only unoccupied table, plopping down and raising his head to look at Harry. Harry got to work, making the tea, leaving Jin to serve the next two customers, who were the last in line. He contemplated whether to take it to him and leave Jin alone or just call him, but Jin saved him by approaching him holding a cup for the last order. 

“Why don’t you take your break now? We don’t have much of a crowd anymore,” she said with a wink. 

“Jin, it’s not-“ 

“It’s just a ten minute break, no big deal,” she cut him off. 

Harry sighed and placed the tea on the counter. He grabbed two chocolate muffins -their special offer for the day- and placed everything on a tray, before he walked around the counter to get to Louis. He realized that the two muffins might appear a bit presumptuous, but it was too late already. Louis had seen him approaching. 

“Here,” Harry said placing the tray on the table, “Enjoy.” He lingered there, hoping that Louis would invite him to sit down with him. 

“You got it mixed up. I only ordered tea,” Louis said, picking up the cup and taking a sip, wincing when the hot liquid hit his tongue. 

“The rest is on the house,” Harry said. 

Louis raised an impressed eyebrow. “Oh, wow! Not one, but two.” Harry felt himself blushing from the top of his head to his chest, and he tried to find words to excuse himself or maybe apologize right away, but Louis stopped him with a gentle gesture of his hand. “Please, sit with me. I can’t possibly eat two muffins.” 

Harry tried not to beam, appear cool for once, as he sat on the chair opposite to the one Louis was sitting. Louis took another sip of his tea, more careful this time, and picked up the muffin. He pinched a small bite and put it in his mouth, munching, his nose moving along to his closed mouth. 

“So,” Harry said trying to distract himself from Louis’ boyish posture, “did you get a job?” 

Louis swallowed his bite nodding. “Yeah, yes. The pay is shite, and I have to wait two weeks to get my first paycheck, but at least it’s a start.” He took one more bite, a larger one. 

“That’s good. Is it close to where you live?” Harry asked, needing to focus. 

Louis lowered his eyes, his smile disappearing. “Um, yeah, relatively.” 

“Do you live nearby?” Harry knew he was being intrusive with the questions, but he didn’t know how to keep the conversation going. He had met both of his best friends at a college party, when he was younger and bolder and drunk. Other than that, he wasn’t used to talking to strangers about anything other than coffee or books. Even his past relationships were awkward the first one or two months. 

“I live wherever really, so…” 

“What?” 

“Um, I stayed in a motel for a couple of days, but, you know, not all of us can afford luxuries, and then I crashed on this guy’s couch for three more days, but he tried to hit on me and I got out of there faster than a bullet.”

Harry looked at him, hiding his shock and worry, because the implication of a defenceless man living in the streets of New York was not the best. It was actually bad, quite bad. “Where did you live before?” 

“I literally just came here. Like when you met me, it had been three days since I moved here. I was living in a hotel with this guy and then, like, I wasn’t welcome anymore. But whatever, I’ve been through worse. One time, I was in Spain, yeah?” Louis changed his posture, perking up and smirking. “I was shit-faced drunk at this club, almost none of the people I was with spoke a word in English, yet I manage to get this amazing hook up, the guy looked like a dream and he had really large hands, which is my weakness. Anyway, he takes me to his home, which he happened to share with two other guys. We had sex -mediocre at best, what a shame!- anyway, I fell asleep at his place, because I was really drunk and the next morning I wake up and my clothes are gone. Like gone, gone. 

”It appears that his roommate thought they were his and he wore them to work. So, I ask this guy for clothes, his English is horrible, he doesn’t understand me, but I get the whole ‘no’ thing right away. He didn’t want to give me clothes, because he thought I’d steal them or I’d want to see him again or something. So I had to walk ten blocks in my pants -thank God, I kept those- to go find a friend of mine.” 

Harry tried to follow the change of subject, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Louis alone and unprotected in the city. “Where will you stay tonight?” 

Louis gaped at him. “I just told you one of my wildest stories, and you care about where I’ll stay tonight?” 

“Well… yeah,” Harry struggled. 

Louis shook his head and finished his muffin. “For starters, I’m working tonight, so it’s a matter of where I’ll spend my morning. Probably this library I found, it has nice couches and with a big enough book to cover my face, I can doze off for a while.” 

“Come over to my place,” Harry said right away. 

Fuck, maybe it wasn’t a good idea inviting strangers to his shared apartment. Who was he kidding, it was his worst idea ever, but the boy would work all night and then sleep on an uncomfortable library couch. Also, it seemed like he hadn’t had a proper meal in a while, since he couldn’t afford a place to stay. Harry was always told that his kindness would be his fatal flaw and that it would come to bite him in the ass later in life, and maybe this was the ‘later’ everyone had told him about, but he couldn’t not invite him. 

Louis looked shocked. “What?” 

“Yeah, I know, weird, you don’t know me, but I’m not some kind of creep. I live with two more people, but you’d barely see them, since you work nights and they’re gone all day, and I promise they won’t steal your clothes.” Louis chuckled, and Harry counted it as a win. “And I promise I’m not some kind of perv, who’ll hit on you or anything. Not that you’re not good-looking or anything, but um…” Harry stopped talking. He blushed when he realized that he just called Louis hot to his face, which okay, it wasn’t a lie, but it still was an inappropriate comment. 

“Look, Curls-“ 

“Harry.” He had really invited a stranger into his home. Someone who didn’t know his name. Great. 

“Curls,” Louis continued with a smirk. “By the way, I like your hair in a bun,” Louis said pointing at his tied hair on the top of his head. “It’s really nice of you to invite me, but I’m not a charity case.” 

“It’s not a charity thing, I promise. You’ll have to contribute in the house, keep it clean and all. Also you’ll get stuck on the couch again, unless I’m not there, you can take my bed then.” 

“I can’t, Curls, it’s too much.” 

Harry shook his head. “Come tomorrow morning, after work, have a good sleep and a nice meal and then you decide what to do.” 

Louis looked at Harry with wide eyes. “Are you positively, 100% sure?” Harry nodded. “Maybe ask your roommates?” 

“My roommates bring people around all the time. I have the right to invite someone, it won’t be an issue.” Probably. Hopefully. “So, will you come?” 

“Eh, what the hell, I’ve done worse than trust a stranger for the millionth time.” 

“Yeah, we established that, you walked naked the streets of Spain after a mediocre hook up,” Harry joked to make the atmosphere lighter. 

“Nearly naked. My crotch area was covered,” Louis said with an amused smile that Harry wanted to stare for hours. 

“Oh, yeah, big difference,” Harry said with a smirk. “I’m sure no one was shocked.” 

“Well, a few older people were, I guess,” Louis said. “But I got a compliment from this group of girls about my bum, which was a plus in a rather shitty day.” 

Harry laughed, feeling bad that he found Louis’ embarrassing story so funny, but he was laughing along, so he relaxed. 

“Harry!” Jin yelled from behind the counter. Harry turned to look at her, realizing that his break was way longer than ten minutes and there was a new wave of people waiting in line to place their orders. “Are you done, hon?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, coming.” He turned to Louis, who took his final sip of his tea. 

“Cold,” he murmured making a disgusted face. 

Harry grabbed a napkin and the marker he always kept in his apron’s pocket. He wrote down his address and his phone number and passed the napkin to Louis, as he stood up. “Call me when you finish your work. I’ll wake up; I don’t mind.” 

“Are you sure?” Louis asked again. 

“Positive.” 

Louis smiled softly and pocketed the napkin. “Now, go back to work. If you become homeless, it will be two of us and I don’t know how we could deal with that.” 

“Alright, see you after work.” 

“Thanks, Curls, for everything.” 

Harry smiled at the nickname and rushed to stand next to Jin and resume his job. Jin looked at him with a suspicious smile. 

“How was your date with the hot blond?” 

“It wasn’t a date.” 

“Oh, it wasn’t?” Jin asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice. 

Harry turned to the next customer. “Welcome, what can I get you?” he asked kindly, holding his marker up and ignoring Jin. His eyes caught Louis walking towards the exit, holding the second, intact muffin. He raised it to his lips, took a bite and winked at Harry, before he walked out. 

“Definitely not a date,” Jin teased him, leaving him to deal with the rest of the crowd. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis makes himself at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I want to thank my beta, Lena. She is an important part of my life outside this fandom, and I will forever be thankful she dedicates her time helping me with this fic. <3 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy this update. 
> 
> Chapter 3 will be up next Sunday.

Harry was woken up by his ringtone. He jolted awake and took his phone in his hands. 4:30am and an unknown number. With a heavy heart and trembling hands, he pressed the button to accept the call and brought the phone to his ear. 

“Hello?” he asked warily, hoping that it was a stupid prank and not news from somewhere in Chicago or Holmes Chapel. 

“Hi, it’s me,” he heard a raspy voice loud whispering. “Can you open the door, I didn’t want to wake your roommates up. Unless I am imposing, I can go if you changed your mind.” 

Louis. How did Harry forget about inviting him to sleep over, it was all he was thinking when he went to bed the previous night. He coughed to get the sleepiness off his voice, before he spoke again. 

“I’ll buzz you in, wait.” 

He hung up and rubbed his face. He had hardly slept three hours, but he was working the evening shift the next day, so he could sleep in for once. He got up and walked as fast as he his legs allowed him this early to buzz Louis in. He opened the door and waited to see the blond boy climbing up the stairs, since the elevator was hardly ever functioning  in their building. 

He appeared after a minute, looking tired and carrying a rucksack, almost as big as him. Harry hurried to help him take it off his shoulders, stepping aside for Louis to get in. He placed the rucksack on the floor, next to his own backpack and Liam’s briefcase, before he closed the door. Harry stood straight and turned to find Louis standing in front of him. 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Louis said, eyes honest and grateful.

Harry half-smiled. “Go to bed for now, let me get a good sleep too.” 

“I’m so sorry I woke you up,” Louis rushed to apologize. 

“It’s fine, I was joking. Do you need anything? Pajamas, maybe to take a shower?” 

Louis shook his head. “No, I’m fine, I have my whole life in there,” he pointed at the rucksack next to the door. “And I’m too tired for a shower, maybe after I wake up.” 

“Sure, let me show you to the couch, I’ll bring you sheets and a pillow.” 

“Cheers,” Louis whispered following Harry to the living room. 

Harry was thankful that he and Liam had tidied up the place just the previous day, although Louis didn’t look like the kind to mind. “Make yourself at home.” 

“Thanks.” 

Harry nodded and  turned around to go get sheets and an extra pillow he kept in his closet. He also picked up a soft blanket he wasn’t using yet. He checked if they still smelled clean, the scent of detergent invading his nostrils, before he returned to the living room, where Louis was standing in his boxer briefs. 

“Just, don’t steal my clothes, please. The weather is not so good here and I think I won’t survive through another walk of shame.” 

“It’s not really a walk of shame, no mediocre hooking up will be involved.” Harry left the covers and pillow on the couch and tried, a little too hard, not to look at the half naked boy in front of him. 

Louis’ skin had a natural glow that hadn’t worn off even after a night of work. He was golden, with black ink invading the smoothness of his skin, patterns of smaller and bigger tattoos, some artistically excellent, some really rushed-looking. Harry was familiar with tattoos and he was constantly teased about the amount of stupid tattoos he had gotten during his lifetime, but Louis was good competition for the prize. Although he was thin, Louis had lines defining his muscles, but also curves that made him look like a model on a painting of a very skilled painter. He was all sharp edges and soft lines. 

Harry swallowed hard and looked away. “Alright, I’ll leave you to rest. Just come knock on my door, if you need anything. It’s the last one down the corridor, on your right. I might be snoring, don’t be scared.” 

Louis chuckled in a tired voice and the sound was possibly one of the most soothing Harry had ever heard. “I’ll be fine, I swear,” Louis reassured him. “Go to bed now, Curls.” 

“Harry.” 

“Curls.” Harry smiled sleepily in response and turned away to go to bed. “Seriously, Harry, thank you.” 

Harry turned back around to look at Louis, who was holding the pillow close to his chest almost protectively. “I told you it’s fine,” Harry said softly. 

“I know, I just- you’re so kind to me and you bought me tea and two muffins and- I’m not used to it, I guess. Usually, people ask me to repay them.” 

“Well, you don’t have to repay me, I promise,” Harry rushed to reassure him. 

“I know. That’s why- I guess- I wanted to thank you.” Louis looked at Harry with trusting eyes, bright with emotion that Harry had been lacking for a long time now. Harry nodded, swallowing hard, and walked back to his bedroom without another word. 

Any trace of sleepiness and tiredness Harry felt had vanished. He sat on the bed and grabbed a new notebook and a pen. His pages had been blank for quite some time, especially after the busy week he had at the café, but he felt like writing a few sentences, even if they didn’t make sense, even if they were uninspiring and boring to the world. He clicked his pen open and let the ink paint the pages with thoughts he didn’t even know he had, until the sun rose in the sky and Harry was left empty and finally able to go to sleep. 

 

~*~

 

Harry woke up a lot later than usual. At 11:45am, he stepped foot on the floor, spurred into consciousness by noise coming from the kitchen and the unmistakable smell of bacon and coffee. He stretched his tired limbs and went to the bathroom for his morning routine; a quick shower, brushing his teeth and trying to tame his hair, but giving up eventually and letting it fall down around his shoulders. He went back to his room for his glasses, which he had abandoned under his pillow. He threw on a pair of soft, black sweats and a T-shirt before following the noise back to the common area. 

He found Louis and Niall sitting at the kitchen island, eating from a massive plate each, filled with eggs and bacon. Niall was drinking coffee from his ‘World’s okayest guitarist’ mug, and Louis was using Harry’s Christmas mug. Harry approached them as the two boys shared a joke and laughed, dropping their heads back and chuckling loudly. 

“Good morning,” Harry said, realizing that his voice was a lot more gravelly than it usually was. He coughed to clear his throat, as the two boys turned their heads to look at him. Louis’ genuine smile made something inside Harry jump. He focused on the half-filled coffee pot and went to pour himself some coffee. 

“Good morning, Curls,” Louis said with an extra raspy voice. “Did you manage to get any more sleep?” 

“Yes,” Harry replied. He sat on a stool opposite from Louis and took a sip of the bitter coffee. “How was your sleep?” 

“Great,” Louis said, pushing his half-eaten breakfast towards Harry. “Here, have some. Niall is a breakfast genius; these eggs are delicious.” 

Harry accepted the plate and fork and looked at Niall with a raised eyebrow. Niall shrugged his shoulders and dug in the leftovers of his breakfast. Harry picked up the fork and took a bite of bacon. 

“So I wake up, hungover as fuck,” Niall began. “I went for drinks with Ed after the gig. Anyway, I wake up and go to the bathroom to take a piss and there I find a stranger in the shower. I almost had a heart attack.” 

“Sorry,” Harry said with his mouth full of eggs. He swallowed and used a sip of coffee to get the food down. “I should have warned you, but Louis came late and I didn’t want to bother.” 

“It’s totally fine, mate. I mean I thought you guys hooked up or something, but then Louis explained that you offered him our couch and all. We’re cool; don’t worry.” 

“Are you sure, because if there is a problem, I can go,” Louis chimed in, wary that he might not be welcome anymore. 

“Are you kidding? You’re staying, you’re an awesome dude,” Niall said. 

Louis turned to look at Harry. “Are you sure, Curls?” 

“Louis, I made the offer, of course I am sure,” Harry reassured him. He wanted to reach and take Louis’ hand that was resting on the counter, but he knew that it would be inappropriate. Louis might think he was putting the moves on and taking advantage of his delicate position. Louis gave him an appreciative smile and a small nod. 

“So, I’m working the evening shift today,” Niall said, taking the steam off of the conversation. Honestly, Harry was feeling so weird sitting in front of the blond boy -so open yet so mysterious like no one else he had ever met before. 

“Where do you work?” 

“I wait tables until I become the next big thing in music,” Niall informed Louis confidently. 

“You’re a musician?” Louis asked, amused. “Instrumentalist or vocals?” 

“Both.” 

“Didn’t the million picks and music sheets around the house tip you off?” Harry teased. Niall flipped Harry off, making Louis chuckle. “What? It’s the truth.” 

“So you’re a rockstar. Here’s a suggestion, friendly advice, dye your hair blond;  it makes everyone look hot and edgy.” 

Niall shook his head as he stood up. “Me and blond hair? Yeah, no way. I’m meeting Ed for lunch, I need to get ready.” 

“You just had breakfast!” Louis said, confused. 

“So?” Niall disappeared in his room, taking his mug with him. 

Louis and Harry looked at each other, an awkward silence settling between them. Harry wanted it gone or, better yet, he felt like going back to his room and his notebook, where he would be safe from embarrassing himself or, worse, making Louis feel uncomfortable. 

Louis didn’t give him the chance to get some time to himself. “Do you want to come with me to a job interview?” 

“Don’t you have a job already? What happened?” 

“Curls, I need a second job, maybe a third, if I want to be able to buy that ticket soon.” Harry looked up from his empty plate. “I don’t think you would like having a freeloader around for a long time.” 

Harry almost told him that he didn’t mind, that he would gladly have him for as long as he needed. But maybe he shouldn’t say such big words to a stranger. Louis could take advantage of those words and stay forever or Harry… Harry might have wanted him to. 

“Alright, where is this job interview?” 

“I’m lucky, it’s right around the block. Hey, do you have any fancy clothes to lend me? I only own ripped jeans and old, band T-shirts.” 

Harry looked at Louis confused as to how this man could manage to fit in Harry’s clothes. “I might have something from my freshman year in high-school.” 

Louis smirked. “What are you implying?” 

“That you’re barely 5’4’’?” Harry was just taking a piss. Looking at the boy sitting in front of him in his grey sweater and nothing else, he could see a major difference in the light of morning. His torso was slim, his waist narrow, still he had defined muscles that looked strong and sharp. Also Louis wasn’t that short, just a bit more compact than Harry.  That didn’t mean he would have some fun teasing him. 

“I’m 5’10’’!” he said exasperated. “5’11’’ even!” 

Harry rolled his eyes, taking the opportunity to keep messing with Louis. “5’7’’ maybe.” 

“What?” 

“Okay, I’ll give you 5’8’’.” 

“I’m at least 5’9’’.” 

Harry smirked and extended his hand. “Deal.” 

Louis took it and shook it firmly. “Deal.” He pulled Harry’s hand closer to his body, causing Harry to almost fall face first on the counter. He looked at the time on Harry’s wrist watch and cursed. 

“Fuck! There’s no time. Come on, Curls, get up. Make me pretty and get ready yourself. We've got to go.” 

Harry didn’t have time to protest or to tell Louis that he didn’t need any help  to become pretty, before Louis stood up and pulled Harry with him.

  
~*~

 

Harry and Louis walked side by side. Apparently the building where Louis wanted to go was a bit far away, but to save money, they  walked instead of taking the subway or the bus. At least it wasn’t too cold outside, a light jacket was sufficient. Harry had worn his usual black skinny jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and his brown ankle boots and looked like any other day. Louis, on the other hand, managed to make a wardrobe out of Harry’s clothes, even if they weren’t a perfect fit. 

He had kept his own jeans, although they were ripped on the knees. Harry had reassured him a million times that they looked fashionable. He also had to wear his own shoes, a pair of black Vans that looked in a better condition than his blue ones. However, he managed to steal one of Harry’s sweaters, a lilac one he had hidden somewhere in his closet and had worn only twice in his life. Since it was already big on Harry when he had bought it, it was somewhat huge on Louis, who had made it work anyway. 

“So what kind of job is this one?” Harry asked, making small chat as they walked. 

“It’s um… I don’t know really.” 

“What kind of job is your other one?” 

“It’s this club, it’s not far from here. I’m supposed to be bartending or whatever. I know like five drinks to make, the rest I make it up. But I usually add so much alcohol, people are pissed drunk before they take their fourth sip and realize how much they hate it.” 

Harry chuckled. “Smart.” 

“It’s either smart or skilled, can’t be both.” Louis looked at the paper with the address he was holding in his hand and stopped abruptly, Harry bumping into him from behind. “I guess here we are?” 

Harry looked at the building. It was named Gabi’s, and it was a hair salon. He turned to look at Louis in bewilderment, because this was a hair salon and not even once did Louis mention his previous hairstylist experience. 

“Alright, this is it. I’m a bit late; let’s go in.” 

Harry grabbed Louis by the arm and pulled him back. Louis turned to look at him confused, which he should have been two minutes ago, when they found out what kind of building they were going to. 

“Louis, this is a hair salon.” 

“Yes, I see it.” 

“Are you- do you know how to cut hair?” 

Louis shook his head. “No idea.” 

“Are they looking for a cleaner or something?” 

Louis got his phone out and checked the ad. “No, they’re looking for a hairstylist apparently. I guess I just saw the address.” Harry looked at Louis expectantly, ready to go and maybe help him find another job. “Okay, let’s go in!” Louis said and walked towards the building. 

“What?” 

Louis didn’t reply to Harry, he just opened the door to get inside. Harry sighed and followed him. The hair salon was colourful and reminded Harry of a past decade. Something from 70’s maybe with all those floral patterns decorating the walls. It wasn’t a big one. There were four spots for hair styling, two spots for washing hair and two hairdryers that women sat under in every cliché movie and TV series. A woman was standing behind a cashier, writing down something. She was tall and curvy, her dark skin glowing under colorful patterned clothes, her long braids wrapped by a beautiful headscarf. 

“Hi,” Louis said with his raspy voice. 

The woman looked up and smiled. “Hello! Do you want to set an appointment for a haircut?” She looked at Harry, who had left his hair down that morning. 

“No, not me,” he said fast. 

“I’m here to apply for the job. You need an assistant, right?” 

“Yes, my previous one just left for California; she got a job as a hairstylist assistant for a TV show. Made me really proud she was like a daughter to me.” 

“Great for her,” Louis said enthusiastically. Considering he hadn’t slept many hours and he was applying for a job he didn’t know how to do, Harry guessed that maybe he was playing it up a little bit. “So what do you need me to do?” Louis asked, looking around. 

“First of all, I’m Gabrielle, but they call me Gabi,” she extended her hand for a greeting. 

Louis took it and shook it gently. “Louis, pleased to meet you.” 

“So you’ll have to do the usual, cleaning up after me, washing customers’ hair, but also preparing the dye, do hairstyles. I assume you have a degree?” the woman looked at him questionably. 

“Um… no… I got my experience by working. Like I worked in Spain and Italy and Greece.” Harry tried not to react to the obvious lie, he always struggled keeping a straight face. “I can show you, if you want. Harry?” Louis turned to look at Harry. 

“What? No.” Harry grabbed his hair instinctively. Gabrielle looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean… I don’t want to cut it short.” 

“Just a trim, Harry,” Louis said with a begging voice. “I won’t screw it up, I swear.” 

Harry widened his eyes, because if he denied the trim, Louis might not get the job, but if he accepted he knew for a fact Louis would mess up his hair. It was either betrayal or eternal shame. 

Louis turned to look at Gabi, giving up on his efforts to ruin Harry’s hair. “Look, I can learn fast,” he promised. “I’m handy and have done all kind of jobs. I always manage, just- Can I have a chance?”

Louis wasn’t pleading, he didn’t seem desperate, but his words made it clear that he needed this job. Harry almost felt guilty for not sitting on the chair to let Louis try to give him a trim. Even if it meant walking around with uneven ends. 

“It’s fine,” Gabi said. “I don’t need too much help with hairstyling anyway. If you can clean and you stick to washing hair, then you’re good to go.” 

“What?” Louis asked surprised he succeeded to convince her. “Are you serious?” 

Gabi chuckled. “I had a few other candidates, but none fits with the hair salon’s status. They were too professional for my style. You can work here, until someone else comes along, what do you think?” 

Louis eyes popped wide open and he gaped at Gabi. “Do you mean it?” 

“Look, I have ten appointments tomorrow from 8 until 2. I need help, and I don’t think I will find someone else today. Come over, we’ll test the waters and see.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“I’m really not.” 

Louis squealed and flew towards Gabi, behind the cashier, to hug her. “Thank you, thank you so much. I won’t disappoint you. I promise. I’ll practice my washing skills on Harry’s hair all day today.” 

Gabi patted his back. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Besides, it’s a tryout of some sorts. Go now and come back tomorrow at 8am sharp.” 

“I’ll be here at 10 to 8. I swear. Thanks, thank you again.” Louis run towards Harry and grabbed him by the arm to pull him out of the salon. 

“Goodbye!” Harry said above his shoulder to the nice lady. 

“Bye! Keep your hair moisturized.”

They got out to the street and Louis jumped on Harry. “Can you believe this? A job.” 

Harry hugged him back, holding him tight, since Louis was hanging on him. “You already have a job, though.” 

“Not a morning job.” Louis set his feet firmly on the ground. “You have no idea how much I need the money, Harry. Hopefully, by the end of the month, I can move out of your house. Unless, you want me gone now, which is fine, honestly.” 

Harry almost told him that he didn’t want him gone at all. What scared him was that he shouldn’t feel this way. “It’s fine, Lou, really. You can go whenever you’re ready.” 

“You’re an angel, Curls. Now, let’s go back. I’ll cook you a perfect meal to thank you for your kindness.” 

Harry smiled as Louis pulled him by the hand, almost dragging him behind. The touch of Louis’ fingers left a burning sensation on Harry’s skin, one that Harry was determined to ignore until Louis would be able to buy his ticket and leave the country. 

 

~*~

 

Louis was standing on one side of the kitchen island, chopping vegetables, while Harry was sitting on one of the stools, drinking a beer and watching the dainty movements of Louis’  hands. The chicken was in the oven roasting slowly, surrounded by the last potatoes in the house, and now Louis was preparing them a big salad. He had decided to cook for everyone in the house as a ‘thank you’, although Niall had already confirmed his plans on eating out with Ed. Louis insisted that he’d get hungry again anyway. 

“So, basically, it’s me, this French guy and two Italian women. None of us speaks a word in Greek. The French guy can speak a little English, so at least I can talk with him, but the girls couldn’t form a sentence, lovely as they were. We’re in Spetses, trying to find someone who speaks one of the languages at least, because we needed to book a room in a hotel and find a place to eat. We’re asking man after man and no one knows how to help, they’re trying, but they really can’t.” 

Harry was watching Louis’ mouth moving as he spoke passionately about his adventures. Harry hadn’t left the country, since the day he stepped foot on it, excluding the trips back home to his father. He had always wanted to travel the world, much like Louis was doing, but he was too young and then university got in the way and then he had a job. He couldn’t get up and leave. He couldn’t find himself in a foreign country, not knowing the language, with a French man and two Italian girls. 

Louis finished chopping the lettuce and threw the pieces in a big bowl. “Anyway, we’re walking around the island, small one, you literally can walk around, but no one helps. Greek people speak English mind you, I’ve been to Crete and Athens and Rhodes and Skiathos and all those other places and people know English. A little broken sometimes, but good to go. So this seems like one in a million situations.” 

“So what happened?” Harry asked genuinely intrigued, eager to have Louis talking and gesturing again. 

Louis set both hands on the counter. He looked around at the mess he had made and sighed. He looked back at Harry, whose eyes were focused on Louis’ mouth. Since when did people have such expressive mouths? 

“We bought a tent and slept at a small, private beach. The guy had a threesome with the girls. I went for a night swim.” 

Harry beamed, amused and a little jealous that he had never lived like this. He had never been brave and adventurous. He always poured his needs for something exciting into pieces of paper and laptop keyboards. That was okay too, he supposed. Not everyone was made to be wanderers of the world. Harry was made for his small bedroom, a cup of coffee and endless, uninspiring writing. He was fine. 

Louis turned around to turn off the oven. “The chicken is ready. Are you hungry now or do you want to eat later?” 

“I’m actually working later, so I better eat now.” Harry stood up to get the plates and serve them both, since Louis did all the cooking. “What time do you work?” 

“I start at 8, and I’m hoping I can come back earlier.” 

“Okay. I will give you my spare key, because I can’t stand another wake-up call at 4am.” 

“Oi! It was 4.30.” 

Harry opened the cupboard and got two plates out, as the front door opened and closed again. There was a soft thud, as someone threw something on the ground, and after a few seconds Liam appeared, looking exhausted, yet very professional in his grey suit. 

“Hey, Harry,” Liam looked over at Louis, “and person I don’t know.” 

“Hi, Li,” Harry greeted him, taking a third plate out of the cupboard. “This is Louis, he’s crashing on the couch for a couple of weeks.” 

Louis smiled and did a little wave with his hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Is he a friend of yours from England?” Liam asked as he approached Louis with an extended hand. “Liam, nice to meet you.” They shook hands, before Liam took a seat on a stool. 

“Wow, you have a firm grip.” 

“No, we met at the coffee shop. Long story short, he needs a place to sleep; we’re providing.” 

“I cooked roast chicken with potatoes; do you want to eat some?” Louis asked, feeling at ease in front of a stranger right away. 

“Yes, starving, thanks.” 

Harry placed the plates next to the pan and started serving them. He made sure to make Louis’ portion a bit bigger, adding more potatoes to his plate. “So how was work?” Harry asked Liam, while working with fast hands. 

“Horrible. Dave threw me under the bus again.” 

“What happened?” Harry placed Liam’s plate in front of him and then gestured to Louis to sit. 

“We worked in this case together, we had the line ready, and he went and changed everything. Needless to say, our client lost the case and my ass is on the line.” He picked up the fork and took a bite from the chicken. “This is good.” 

“Tell Dave to fuck off, honestly,” Harry said sitting next to Louis with his own plate on hand. “It’s like what- the third time he’s doing this?” 

“Fourth.” Liam sighed and kept eating in silence. 

“Where do you work, Liam?” Louis asked. 

Liam swallowed half a potato bite and took a sip of water, before answering, “I’m an intern in this law firm.” 

“A lawyer?” Louis asked, amused. 

“Well, you make it sound fancier than it is. I usually make coffee and pick up phones, but from time to time we work on easy cases for the boss, who is by the way Dave’s uncle.” 

“What an asswipe. Honestly, just don’t give a fuck,” Louis said. 

Liam looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow. “Thanks?” 

“Okay, tonight you will all come to the place I work. It’s not the best, but it’s dirty enough to unwind after a difficult day. Come on, it’s Friday. You’re not working tomorrow.” 

“I am,” Harry protested glumly. “The morning shift.” 

“So you’ll go straight from the club, big deal.” Louis said it like it meant nothing, but even in his university days, Harry never pulled off all-nighters. Of course he had attended some parties and had gotten wasted and high, but not when he was supposed to be up early in the morning the next day. “Come on, lads, first round on the house.” 

“I’m sold,” Liam said right away. 

So just like that, Louis managed to steal all of Harry’s roommates’ hearts. 

  
~*~

 

The night found Harry, Liam and Niall entering the nightclub, the address of which Louis had already texted to Harry. The place was definitely not posh or looked clean, if Harry was being honest, but it was packed with people dancing, drinking, having fun. The lights were strobing on their faces, making their skin a different kind of color in sync with the beat of the song that was playing. Harry expected something a bit quieter. He wasn’t a fan of loud music and sweaty bodies rubbing on him, with the exception of going out with the purpose of hooking up, but Niall seemed ecstatic. 

“Let’s go find a place to sit,” Liam prompted, pulling Harry’s elbow towards a place with a couple of empty, high top tables.

“No, let’s find Louis first, I need a drink anyway,” Harry said, looking around to find Louis. 

“We’ll go secure a table, and you go get us a drink,” Niall suggested. 

Harry nodded. “Sure, what do you want?” 

“Whatever the bartender suggests,” Niall chuckled as he waved at someone behind Harry. 

Harry turned around and saw Louis waving back with a bright smile on his face. His fringe was falling in his pale, blue eyes; however, it didn’t seem to bother him as he looked down and served a round of blue shots. He passed them around to a group of girls. One of them was wearing a tiara with a veil, obviously a bride-to-be. Louis downed one of the shots with the girls, cheering along with them. 

“I’ll meet you at the table,” Harry said and started walking towards Louis. 

The man excused himself from the group of girls and went to stand in front of Harry. “What a surprise, Harry! I had no idea you’d come!” 

“Your begging worked, so I’m here and ready to get pissed before I go to work tomorrow morning.” 

“My begging?” Louis huffed. “Please, I barely had to ask.” 

“You did ask, though,” Harry teased him. “In a begging voice.” 

“Oi! Don’t be a twat,” Louis laughed and slapped Harry’s shoulder with a towel he was holding. “What can I get you guys?” 

“Niall asked for your suggestion. Let me give you a challenge though. If you manage to get Niall drunk with no more than two drinks, I’ll give you my bed.” 

“Easy!” Louis snorted. 

“Easy? Niall once drank cough syrup with whiskey and then took care of my drunk ass after I had like… three drinks.” 

“Three?” Louis widened his eyes. “Harold, you’re pathetic.” 

“Name’s Harry.” 

“Harold, you’re pathetic,” Louis repeated. “But I’ll take the challenge and kick you out of your own bed tonight.” 

“Don’t get too cocky; it will be your fatal flaw.” 

“Yeah, but I’ll be flawlessly fabulous, when I die because I was too cocky, let alone really cool.” 

“That lost you at least a hundred points of coolness, Louis, God.” 

“What do you want to drink, pest?” Louis asked him with a cheeky smile. 

“Your choice, whatever you make for Niall and Liam, just a bit lighter. Don’t feel like throwing up all over my bed.” 

“You won’t. I’ll be sleeping on it.” 

Harry tried not to let the way this sounded get in his head, because Louis was looking positively amazing in his black, sheer T-shirt. Harry couldn’t see his trousers, but he was sure that they were tight on his legs, displaying his curvy thighs. Alright, Harry needed to get it together. 

“Don’t bet on it,” Harry said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Harold, we just made a bet.” 

Louis’ teasing tone and amused eyes made Harry’s skin itchy. He felt a constant ache in Louis’ presence. Like he wanted to maybe reach out and touch him, but at the same time it was inappropriate. They didn’t even know each other. Never mind that Harry was offering his couch to him, and it would look like he was making advances to him. 

“Okay,” Harry breathed out, “wow me with your bartending skills.” 

Louis smirked and started working with fast hands to prepare the same three drinks. Harry noticed that he didn’t put as much liquor in one of them. He was appreciative, because he was never one to take his liquor well and last thing he wanted was to get drunk and throw up all over the place, or worse -start acting like an idiot. 

Harry observed Louis’ face as he worked. His tongue was hanging out in concentration as he poured different juices and liquors, mixing them together and creating beautiful colors. He finished the three cocktails and poured each mix in the glasses he had placed on the counter. 

“Enjoy,” Louis smiled at Harry. 

Harry picked up the one that was obviously for him and took a sip, wincing at the strong flavor. “What’s in this?” 

“White rum, vodka, some gin, cranberry juice and a bit of spearmint.” 

“Dude, I told you to go easy on me,” Harry fake-complained, but took another sip, because it was tasty. 

Louis chuckled throwing his head back. Harry couldn’t help but notice the lines of his neck and jaw, the way his throat bobbed with every breath he let out while laughing softly. “You should try Niall’s, you’d die on the spot.” 

“Hey, are you planning to kill my roommate? Are you truly a murderer I put in my house?” 

“Yes,” Louis said unblinkingly. “First I’ll kill Niall, then Liam, and I’ll leave you for last.” 

“Why would I be last?” 

“Because you have pretty eyes.” 

Harry blushed under Louis’ compliment. It wasn’t like he hadn’t experienced people flirting with him before, he wasn’t stupid, he knew that he was attractive to some people, so at least he wasn’t ugly. He had many people hitting on him back at uni, and he still got a compliment here and there working at the café, but this was completely different. Harry couldn’t allow himself to like Louis, and Louis was already making it hard the way he looked. Adding compliments and teasing to the mix wasn’t making the situation any easier to be honest. 

However, Harry couldn’t really stop himself from complimenting him back. Especially with the way Louis’ eyes were shining bright with the experience of great adventures and the eagerness for more. “You’re one to talk,” Harry said with a smirk. “You have future brides falling for you left and right, and you have the audacity to comment on my eyes.” 

“Are you kidding me? That girl was just nice because I bought them shots. Not everyone who looks at me is attracted to me.” 

“How can they not?” Harry asked, his brain too slow to stop the words, before they got out of his mouth. 

Louis locked eyes with him and bit his lip, making Harry imagine himself doing that. He’d like to kiss that lip, bite it, lick it. He’d like to do a lot of things to those lips if he was being honest to himself. He shook his head, shocked by his own thoughts, and picked up his drink. 

“I gotta get these to Liam and Niall.” 

“Do you need help?” Louis asked, startled by the sudden change in mood. 

Harry shook his head and managed to fit both glasses securely in one hand. “I got it.” 

Louis looked impressed, as Harry turned around and walked away, wondering if he could embarrass himself some more. 

 

~*~

 

Of course, he could. 

Harry was on his second drink, after he had a shot offered by an overexcited Louis, who brought them to their table himself. He was tipsy at best, while Liam was struggling to finish his second drink. Surprising no one really, Niall was on his third drink, lively and sober as ever. They were chatting about nothing really, random discussions that had no impact in their daily lives. It felt nice, relaxing for once, not talking about rent or bills or the need to repair the flush. 

Niall finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the table. “I think we need one more round of shots.” 

Liam shook his head. “No way, I’m way too drunk already. What did Louis put in these?” 

“Everything,” Harry said taking one more sip. “There’s rum, vodka, gin, some other stuff…” Harry finished the drink giggling like an idiot. “Louis and I actually made a bet whether he could get Niall drunk by his second drink. If he did, he’d get my bed for the night, but obviously that didn’t happen, so I win,” Harry grinned. 

“You asshole, you made a bet using me?” Niall asked with a laugh. 

Harry shrugged and grabbed Liam’s half-finished drink. “You’re not going to drink that, are you?” Liam shook his head, and Harry was quick to swallow it down. 

“Lou is pretty great. When did you meet him? Is he a regular at the café?” 

Harry shook his head. Normally, he’d try to excuse himself, but he was way too gone for this. “He came in like a week ago. He was a nice lad and I bought him tea. He came again like… when was it… yesterday? Yeah, yesterday. Told me he had nowhere to stay, well, he implied it, and I offered our couch.” 

Liam looked at Harry with his mouth open and his eyebrows furrowed to one angry line.  _ Shit _ . “Are you kidding me now? You just brought a stranger to our apartment? Are you serious?” 

“Relax, it’s not like he’s a murderer or anything like that.” Harry was 80% sure Louis was sane, normal guy. “If he was, he would already have killed us.” 

“Yeah, but Harry you don’t know that. Oh, my God! What if he steals something? I think I left some money in the jar.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Louis is not going to steal. My God, the boy has been through a lot. He just needs a place to live. He works two jobs for fuck’s sake.” 

“Harry, you don’t know that. How could you?” Liam insisted, always worrying too much, always being a tad too sensible for his own good. 

“Hey, Li, relax. Harry has never even brought a hook up home. He’s allowed to have a guest. It’s not different than bringing someone back home from the bar. If anything, he’s more reliable because we know where he works,” Niall took Harry’s side. Well, he was probably taking Louis’ side, he had taken a shine to him. 

Harry nodded slowly, agreeing to Niall’s words. He felt dizzy, the colors too bright for his eyes, the music too loud, but he didn’t want to leave. He hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Louis. Louis had been the life of the bar all night, offering shot after shot to people -he said that his boss told him to do it, so that people would feel comfortable to come back again, if he was paying he’d hid the bottle and drink it all by himself. “With my company,” Harry had corrected him, and Louis had agreed. 

Harry looked at the man working behind the bar. He was leaning on the counter, talking with some guy who was looking at Louis like he was ready to devour him. Well, no surprise there, Louis looked gorgeous. It was more than just his appearance, it was a certain something about him, a glow that Harry had never seen on a person before. He looked away, a bit too quickly, seeing black for a moment. 

“Fuck, he got me really drunk,” Harry whispered. “I’m working the morning shift.” 

“Can’t you call in sick?” Niall suggested. 

“And leave poor Jin alone? I’d be an asshole. I think I better go home. I’ll go tell Louis.” 

“We’ll come with you, dude,” Liam said. “How much were my drinks?” 

“I’ll pay, and you’ll give it to me later,” Harry said not wanting to wait any longer. The man was leaning dangerously close to Louis, and Harry wanted to get out of there before he saw them kiss or anything like that. “Just wait outside, I’m coming in a second.” 

“Can you even walk?” Niall asked him half-concerned, half-amused by the state Harry was in. 

“’M fine.” Harry got up with his third try -after Liam put a hand on his back to help him find his balance- and dragged his feet to the bar. Louis raised his head to look at him, a grin taking over his entire face.

“Hey, Harry, you look pissed,” he teased him with a cheeky smile.

“I am,” Harry agreed. His eyes fell on the man who had been flirting with Louis, but was now giving him the once-over. He didn’t look younger than 30 years old and had short, brown hair and small eyes that squinted even more when the lights hit his face. “So we’re heading home.” 

“Already?” Louis pouted. He moved his entire body towards Harry, who had to place a hand on the counter in order to not fall flat on his ass in front of the whole bar and Louis. “I was hoping you’d take me home,” Louis said cheekily, his mouth moving in an obscene way. Harry wanted to bite him. Okay, Harry was seriously drunk. 

“I have to work tomorrow and you got me quite drunk. Luckily for me, Niall didn’t bat an eyelid with your heavy alcoholic drink, so there’s that, I won.” 

Louis pouted. “So no bed for me?” 

“Nope,” Harry said. He tried to ignore the heat he was feeling starting from his chest and spreading to his whole body. He was fine. It was the alcohol and those damn, blue eyes. He got his wallet out and left a couple of bills that would cover the drinks of the night. Louis took them and went to give Harry the change, but Harry grabbed his wrist and pushed it back to Louis’ body. “Keep it, it’s alright.” Louis smiled and nodded gratefully. 

“I’ll be home in a couple of hours, Curls. I’ll probably wake you up and make you sleep on the couch, be ready.” 

“As if,” Harry huffed. Slower than the usual, Harry found his keys in his pocket and placed them on the counter. “Here, use my keys tonight. And you’re sleeping on the couch.” 

“What a shitty host,” Louis joked. He leaned a bit more towards Harry and  _ fuck _ ! A scent of thirty different juices, alcoholic drinks, tobacco and something a little different -maybe his cologne?- made him even more dizzy than the cocktails did. Louis was invading his private space and his fucking mind. “But I’ll take the couch, I’m a gentleman, you know.” 

“See you tomorrow, Louis,” Harry breathed out. 

“Thanks for coming, Harry,” Louis replied with a sudden sincerity. “And thanks for taking me in and being a nice guy. You’re- we could be good friends, you’re a nice person. Too nice actually.” 

“Doing my best in a shitty world.” 

Louis agreed with a nod and a soft smile that burned brighter than the sun on a clear, summer day. How fucked was Harry? 

“Goodnight, Louis,” Harry said, unable to take his eyes from the gorgeous boy. His skin looked really smooth under the strobe lights of the bar.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis whispered back. Harry’s heart missed a beat, and he swayed a bit dangerously. 

He turned around and almost ran out of the place, or well, walked as fast as his drunk feet allowed him to. Again, he wondered, how fucked was he? 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi [here](http://rosegoldhl.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> If you have tumblr, please reblog this [post](http://rosegoldhl.tumblr.com/post/165693215751/a-hard-rains-gonna-fall-by-rosegoldhl-like-an). I would be grateful. 
> 
> Ri. xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry remembers how to feel.

Harry tried to ignore the crashing sounds coming from the living room. He had struggled to fall asleep, at times feeling like he would throw up, at times feeling dizzy even with his eyes closed, but mostly everything together. It must have been around 4:30 or 5am, since Louis was returning just now. Harry wished the man could be a tad quieter; it required quite an effort from Harry to fall asleep while drunk and Louis’ loud banging of doors and thudding of shoes and jacket falling on the floor wasn’t really helping.

Harry was concerned Louis might wake Liam up, too. Thankfully there wasn’t a chance Niall would open his eyes before it was time to go to work. Harry wasn’t sure that Liam was convinced of Louis’ good nature. Sure, he was civil with him at lunch, but that was before he learned that he was a complete stranger to Harry.

Harry’s eyes begrudgingly opened at  the sound of glasses clinking from the kitchen. The whole room was a blurry, dark view of his bed and bookcase due to both his bad eyesight and the fact that he was still very much drunk. “Please, shut up. Please, shut up,” Harry murmured, hoping  that somehow Louis would obey a whispered command he couldn’t hear.

After a while, the noise stopped and Harry closed his eyes again. Maybe he should talk to Louis and ask him to be a bit more considerate in the early hours of the morning. He huffed out a breath and lied on his back, knowing that it was dangerous in his current  state. He could so easily choke on his own vomit, but honestly it was the only comfortable position at the moment.

He closed his eyes, bringing the blankets high enough to cover him up to his mouth -he hated breathing in cold air- and tried to fall asleep. It must had been two or three minutes later, when he heard the door of his own room opening and then closing again.

“Harry…”

It was Louis’ voice, and Harry honestly was too tired to deal with anything at the moment. He pretended he was asleep, hoping Louis would go away- Louis and that feeling of uneasiness in his stomach when he heard his name spoken by Louis’ raspy, tired voice. He heard footsteps and then felt a hand on his shoulder nudging him lightly. Harry didn’t move and tried to keep his breath consistent.

There was another nudge. “Harry, Niall is sleeping on the couch.”

“Go to his room,” Harry murmured. He was sure that Niall wouldn’t mind having Louis sleeping in his bed. If it was Liam, it would be different, but with Niall, everything was simple.

Harry felt the mattress shifting underneath him as Louis sat on the bed. “I went and it’s full of junk and there’s not enough space for me to sleep there. Can I…?”

Oh, no! No, no, no! He knew exactly where this was going.  Harry was too drunk and too affected by Louis’ presence to allow it to happen. He opened his eyes and looked at the man hovering over his face. He was out of his clothes and into a white T-shirt. Harry had no idea whether he was wearing anything underneath the covers; he couldn’t remember if he had gotten rid of all of his clothes or not. But Louis looked tired, boyish, the way he rubbed his eyes. His hair was falling soft on his face. Harry sighed and made some room for him.

“Thanks, Harry, you’re the best,” Louis murmured as he lied down with a relieved sigh. Harry realized how tired the man must have been after so many hours of work.

“And you’re a pest, but what can we do about that?” Harry retorted teasingly.

Louis chuckled and turned his body towards Harry. He nudged his ribs, making him realize that, yes, he was half-naked next to Louis. Harry blushed, but thankfully it was too dark to be exposed. The only thing he could make out without his glasses were Louis’ hair and his eyes, and he guessed that Louis didn’t have any better luck.

“How come you decided to take me in?” Louis asked suddenly. He was keeping a distance, but he was still too close. Close enough so that Harry could smell him. And fuck he should smell horribly after working all night at a bar, but he didn’t. At least not to Harry. He tried to ignore his senses that were attuned to every single breath and slight move that Louis made as  he waited for an answer.  

Harry sighed, trying to find the right words. For a person that aspired to become famous for shaping words into the emotions he wanted to convey on paper, he was quite bad at finding ways to express himself out loud.

“I guess I know how it feels to be alone?” Harry whispered. “I mean I’ve never been homeless or anything like that, but I remember how it was when I left home and came in the US with mom. I made friends quite easily, but still I was alone. I guess in a sense I wanted to help you not feel as alone as I did?”

“You didn’t have to take me in your home, though,” Louis rasped. Harry wanted to close his eyes and drown in the sound of his voice. Maybe he was still too drunk; his brain wasn’t functioning properly.

Harry turned to look at Louis. “I know.”

“Thank you for doing it, though.”

Harry nodded, but didn’t take his eyes away from whatever part of Louis’ face he could make out in the dark. Louis moved a little closer, trying to find some warmth under Harry’s blanket, and Harry let him.

“One day,” Louis whispered, his hot breath hitting Harry’s shoulder and making him shiver, “I will tell you what brought me here.”

“Didn’t you tell me it was a guy or something that brought you here?”

“Yeah…”

“Is there more to it?” Harry asked.

“Always.”

“You don’t have to tell me, you know. You don’t owe me anything for staying here, honestly.”

Louis sighed. Harry felt Louis’ fingers on his side, just barely there, not really touching him. “I know, Harry. You’re nothing but lovely. What I want to do has nothing to do with the fact that you offered me a place to stay.”

Harry turned to look at Louis again, his heart thumping in his chest upon hearing Louis’ words. “And what is that you want to do?”

Louis’ smirk was barely visible in the dark, but Harry knew it was there, and it made him feel like he was slowly burning. “Goodnight, Harry,” he turned his back to him, leaving him confused and hopeful that he hadn’t dreamt their interaction.  

  
~*~

 

The warmth and the scent of another body woke Harry up right before his alarm went off. A groan came from next to him, and Harry hurried to get up and find his phone tangled somewhere between the sheets. He turned off his alarm and took a big breath. He had barely slept for two hours, and he was supposed to go and work the busy morning shift.

Harry looked next to him at the man lying there. His hair was falling on his face, covering most of it, apart from his lips, which were slightly open, letting out small puffs of air. Somehow he had managed to hog the blanket, now tangled around his body. The T-shirt had risen up on his torso, revealing his stomach. Harry looked away, feeling like a creep for looking at Louis sleeping. How beautiful he looked though!

Harry wasn’t one that looked good straight out of bed in the morning. His hair was all over the place, his eyes, nose and lips were puffy, his voice barely left his throat, and he had the worst morning breath. He always admired people who looked just as good in the morning as they looked before bed, and apparently Louis was one of those people.

Louis stirred in his sleep and moved closer to Harry. Thankfully, Harry hadn’t done anything stupid while they were asleep like cuddle him or anything like that. Also, he was lucky to wake up without a boner for once. That was a nice change, a surprising one, considering his thoughts before he fell asleep.

“Louis, I need to get up,” Harry whispered. He was trapped between the windowed wall and Louis’ body, and, of course, climbing over a stranger wasn’t really an option. Louis hummed, but didn’t move. “Please, can I just- Can you move?”

Louis raised his hand and searched for Harry’s face, slapping his palm on Harry’s mouth. “Shh, I’m sleeping.”

Harry didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or feel frustrated, because Louis was acting all nonchalant, while Harry was feeling lost.

“I need to get to work.”

“Shh…” Louis repeated with a giggle this time.

“Louis.”

“Harry.”

Louis finally opened his eyes and looked at Harry, blinking against the sunlight coming from the window. He rubbed his eyes, all soft smiles and golden skin. He had a wrinkle running from his forehead to his left cheek because of the pillow.

“What do you want from my life, Harry?” Louis asked, but he sounded soft and gentle, the furthest from annoyed.

“I need to get up and go to work. Hangover. Because of you.”

“Now, now,” Louis said stretching his arms above his head. “It’s not my fault you’re such a lightweight. Also I need to get to my new job, too, so I’m getting up as well.” Louis stretched once more and dragged himself out of bed. “Come on now, you’re making me breakfast.”

Harry followed Louis out of the bed and the room. Everyone was still asleep, since they were working at a much more reasonable hour. Louis, once again, was doing little to nothing to limit the noise he was making as he walked to the kitchen.

“I’ll make a cuppa, want one?”

“I don’t have time, I need to get to work. I’ll have some coffee and something to eat there. Actually, do you want to join me? You’ll have the second coffee of the day.”

Louis rubbed his eyes and looked at Harry from beneath his hand. “Second?”

“Well, you got me drunk and you came to my bed, despite you lost the bed. I deserve the first cup of the day, don’t you think?”

Louis beamed at him, and Harry felt his heart soaring. “We’ll see about that, Curls.”

  
~*~

 

Apparently, Harry was more punctual than he was giving himself credit for, since he was the one who opened the café, after he found a message on his phone by Jin, saying she’d be late. It had taken him approximately twenty minutes to take a shower, dress in his uniform, and try to style his hair, only to give up after a while, going for his usual bun. Louis had surprised him by how fast he had dressed up himself. He had taken a shower right after Harry, and Harry had only had to wait fifteen minutes to see Louis emerging from the bathroom with his hair styled on a soft fringe, wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, similar to the ones he had worn the previous day but without the rips at the knees, and of course, Harry’s sweater.

“I think Liam is right, you’re a thief. What are you doing with this?” Harry touched Louis’ shoulder, picking up the woolen material carefully and letting it fall a little lower than it was a second ago.

“Liam thinks I’m a thief?” Louis asked, but he didn’t sound offended, more amused Harry would say.

“You’re a stranger to our house, what do you think?”

Louis gasped, clasping his hand to his chest. “After the night we had, you’re calling me a stranger? And you think yourself a gentleman?”

Harry rolled his eyes, and they left, deciding to walk to Harry’s work, since it wasn’t that far away and neither had money to waste on the commute. Although Louis had slept even less than Harry and had also worked all night, he was energized. He was bouncing around, almost skipping down the street. Harry didn’t share his excitement; he was still very much hungover and tired. Louis was talking nonstop about anything and everything, asking questions about whatever caught his eye around him, pausing to give one of his last two dollars to a homeless man playing the guitar on the side of the road.

They arrived to the café only five minutes later than they were supposed to, and Harry guided Louis to the back door, which he used whenever he was working the morning shift. He flicked the switch on, lights illuminating the kitchen, as the two men walked in side by side.

“So, I need to start the coffee machine and wait for our caterer. Do you want coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please,” Louis said with a smile.

Harry nodded and walked to the front of the café. He started setting up the coffee machine, which needed a couple of minutes to start, while he pressed one of the kettle’s buttons for the tea. There were some leftover cookies and muffins that would be good for breakfast, although Harry had no idea if Louis preferred sweet or savory.

Louis joined Harry right on time, when Harry was serving two muffins on a plate and  was finishing the tea and coffee. He stood behind Harry, standing on his tiptoes to look over Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned around, almost knocking Louis from his feet.

“Oops, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Louis beamed and tried to look above Harry’s shoulder again. “Is my breakfast ready? Not to be annoying, but I’m starving.”

“Yeah, it is.” Harry stepped on the side and pointed at the cup of tea, allowing Louis to take it carefully in his hands. He took a sip, wincing at the liquid’s temperature, and swallowed with a soft sigh.

“It’s perfect, mate. Thank you so much.”

Harry picked up his own coffee and the plate of muffins, leading Louis to the back again, where the caterer would come to find him soon. Louis sat on a counter, and Harry didn’t tell him off, although he knew it was against all the sanitary rules. He grabbed one of the muffins and took a huge bite from it eagerly.

“Delicious.”

“You’re always too hungry,” Harry said, eating from the other muffin.

“That is true.”

Harry stood in front of Louis, and they had their breakfast in a comfortable silence. As Louis was munching his muffin, Harry took the chance to study his face. His bone structure was so unique, people had to pay to get those cheekbones, but Louis was effortlessly beautiful. Harry observed the lines under his cheekbones as he chewed his food or drank his tea. He managed to look soft underneath all the sharp edges. Almost vulnerable in the early hours of the morning. A strand of hair fell in front of his eyes, and Harry had to fight the urge to raise his hand and push it back, touch the soft skin of his cheeks, his pink lips.

“Is something on my face?” Louis asked with his mouth full of chocolate muffin. Harry shook his head. He knew that Louis probably could see on his face how mesmerized he was by the man. He shook his head, schooling his face to a more serious expression. “What’s wrong, Curls?”

“I’m- It’s nothing.”

“Come on now, tell me.” He probed Harry’s stomach with a finger. Harry instinctively covered his torso with his arms, shivering at the sudden contact. “What was your pretty head thinking?”

“I need to write,” Harry said the first thing that came to his mind. It was true. Two thoughts were prominent in his head, Louis and getting his hands on a pen and a paper.

“Write?” Louis seemed interested in the idea. “What would you write?”

“I don’t know yet? I haven’t written in so long. My previous book was rejected by all the publishing houses I sent it to, so I really don’t know if I should continue in the same genre or not.”

Louis’ eyes widened in wonder. “You’re an author?”

“Not a published one,” Harry said feeling stupid for bringing it up. He couldn’t think anything else apart from writing at the moment and he thought it would be okay to talk about it, but that meant that he had to talk about how big of a failure he was.

“That’s honestly so... amazing?” Louis seemed ecstatic. “You have to let me read one of your stories. Do you have a short one I can read?”

“No,” Harry said right away. There was no way he’d let someone who had traveled around the world enter his. Not even the boys had read his works. Harry had always been  very careful to write under a pseudonym, either online or when he sent his first book to houses.

“Come on now, Curls, don’t get shy on me. You let me into your house after the second time we meet, yet you won’t let me read a few of your words.”

There was no way Harry would reveal such a big part of himself. “That’s right, you’re right.”

“Hm… I’m sure one day we will work out a deal and I’ll be able to read your beautiful stories.”

“How do you know my words are beautiful?”

“Because you are,” Louis was nonchalant as he spoke, but Harry felt his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and pride of hearing those words from a man like him.

“I’m average at best,” Harry said, shaking his head.

Louis placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder; it was light, yet grounding, making Harry feel safe. Important.

“You’re not just a good-looking man,” Louis said, eyes open and honest, “but also a beautiful soul.”

They stared at each other, Harry’s overwhelming desire to place his lips on Louis’, taste him, breathe him in was getting out of control. He was so lucky they were interrupted by the caterer entering from the back door.

“Styles, I got your stuff,” she said cheerfully. “Oh, hey, sorry for interrupting,” she stopped in her tracks, pausing in front of the door.

Harry turned around to look at her and smiled politely, grateful that she unwillingly stopped him before he did something stupid like kiss Louis. “It’s fine. I’ll be right there.”

Louis bounced off the counter. “I actually have to go. Thanks for the breakfast again, Curls.” Louis stood on his tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on Harry’s cheek. Fire, that was all he could feel. Ready to run and fly, but also wanting to stay still and freeze time. “I’ll come pick you up, when I finish, okay?”

Harry nodded, completely dumbfounded by the sudden intimacy. Louis giggled -Harry was so obvious, not even the most oblivious person could ignore it- before he walked away. He passed by the caterer, smiling politely at her. He paused behind her and turned around to wave at Harry one last time before he disappeared.

“So about the cupcakes...” the caterer said with a small chuckle.

Harry was too far gone to care about the cupcakes.

  
~*~

 

The afternoon found Harry on his bed, next to Louis, watching an old movie from his impossibly slow and almost burning laptop. They had set it up on the bookcase, which was stuck to the feet of the bed, and Louis had insisted on picking the film “since he was a guest” as he put it. Harry didn’t mind, his mind was too crowded with wild thoughts to be able to actually watch the movie, so he let him choose whatever he wanted and sat by his side. Louis ended up picking _Maurice_ , before he settled comfortable next to Harry. Very close to Harry.

Harry ignored the sweet and musk scent that came from his right, a mix of Louis’ cologne and Harry’s shower gel, which Louis used for a thorough shower as soon as they stepped foot in the apartment. Apparently, Louis was more crept out by hair than he originally thought. He kept scratching himself the whole way home saying, “it’s all over me, Harry, stop laughing,” and he took almost half an hour in the shower. Harry had prepared them lunch while Louis was trying to get rid of the idea of hair on his body, nothing fancy, a sandwich with ham and cheddar cheese for each. They both devoured them in a matter of minutes, too tired and hungry and still a little bit hungover in Harry’s case.

“I forgot to tell you,” Louis said as the opening credits began. “Gabi told me that there is a big chance I’ll be working there for quite some time. Apparently, one of her new clients is a semi-famous beauty vlogger and she talked about Gabi’s hair salon on her YouTube channel, and now she’s kind of booked, so even if she hires a new real hairstylist, I might get to keep my job and help around.”

“That’s cool,” Harry said. “How are you going to deal with the hair though?”

“Long showers, I guess. But I’ll get used to it, I’m sure. Besides, I need the money. The sooner I leave, the better.”

Harry didn’t comment on that. It was weird not wanting to let go of a guy he had just met. He should want him out of his house. Louis wasn’t paying rent, he was eating his food, using his shower gel, hogging more than half of the mattress at the moment, Harry stuck to the wall, underneath the half-opened window. Yet Harry didn’t like the thought of seeing Louis go, before he had the chance to be- well, he didn’t know what he wanted to be to Louis. Friends? Yes, friends.

“When are you planning to leave New York?” Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant. In theory he succeeded, even if he felt his stomach upset. It was the result of last night’s stupidity to drink a bit too much. That’s what it was.

“As soon as possible, this city is fucking expensive, I can’t survive here even if I get ten jobs. I’m thinking in a couple of months. I talked with an old friend on Facebook, and she told me that I might be able to get a job at a hotel in Crete for the summer. Might head out earlier or go to Italy before for a couple of months. Not sure yet.”

Harry nodded and focused his eyes on the screen. “Why did you come to New York if you didn’t want to?” Why did he have to come to Harry’s city and café and life, if he planned to leave right away?

“I came here to settle down actually. I was supposed to get married.”

“What?” Harry almost yelled the question. He covered his mouth with his hand, cringing internally with the way he reacted. “Sorry,” he apologized, “I mean- what happened?”

“I met that guy, Frank, in Germany. It was supposed to be just a quick stop for me. We met at the train station actually. He flirted with me and asked me for my number, although I told him I’d stay for two days. He called me an hour after we parted ways, so I thought he only cared about getting in my pants. Now, don’t judge, but I’m not one to pass the opportunity for a nice date and a good shag. Frank was good at both, he was charming and sweet and a really, really good fuck. I ended up staying in Germany for five months, at Frank’s place.”

“Yeah, but how did you end up here?” Harry asked ignoring a sting he felt in his chest upon hearing about that man and the whirlwind romance Louis lived with him.

Louis turned his whole body to look at Harry, movie completely forgotten. “He told me he was planning to move in New York due to his company’s transfer; he works for PR. He asked me to follow. Of course, I told him no in the beginning. I couldn’t leave my plans and move to the end of the world for a guy. What if he dumped me?” Louis said the last sentence with sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “I told him I loved him, but even I couldn’t live in such uncertainty. He asked me to marry him and then I said yes, because I thought I loved him.”

“Did you?” Harry had stopped breathing. Louis’ life was so wild, full of escapades and guys asking him to marry them, while all Harry had was a laptop that sounded like an airplane ready for take off and a book he couldn’t get published.

“No. I didn’t. It was my first real relationship, and I didn’t want to lose that, I guess. After we moved here, Frank changed. He was a bit rude to me, like he had regretted taking me with him. He broke up with me five days later, and I was leaving in the streets.”

“What?” Harry couldn’t even wrap his mind around it. “Like straight up threw you out? You agreed to marry him and moved here, and he didn’t have the courtesy to let you stay with him until you got a job and an apartment? What an utter dick.”

“Yeah, he is,” Louis gave Harry a gentle smile. He seemed like he had made his peace with it. “But it’s alright, because now I have two jobs, a nice bed,” he patted Harry’s mattress sighing softly, “and I got to meet you.” They locked eyes, the room heavy with questions and hidden meanings behind their words, meanings Harry was afraid of. “And Niall and Liam of course,” Louis said quickly, tearing his gaze from Harry’s.

“Well, don’t count on the bed,” Harry tried to lighten the mood, against the heavy feeling inside his chest. Louis was- He was so special. Harry had met a lot of people. Some of them were lovers, some were friends, and some plain acquaintances, but Louis was the first and only person that made him unable to think in a linear, logical way. He was like a magnet, full of light and life, and he pulled Harry, who felt powerless with every smile or blink of blue eyes.

“Don’t be rude now,” Louis sprawled on the mattress, and Harry absolutely, positively did _not_ notice his own T-shirt rising up Louis’ body. Louis had a gift of demanding everything from people and people giving it to him willingly. He had taken Harry’s couch, bed, food, clothes, and full attention. “This bed is big enough for both of us.”

“No, it’s not,” Harry said, determined to not go through a second night like the previous one.

“What are you talking about, Curls? Look!” Louis extended his limbs to their full capacity, his right arm and leg trapping Harry’s body, who tried to get away from Louis’ touch, sticking his body on the wall. “See? Comfortable,” Louis said moving even closer to Harry.

“You’re such a menace,” Harry said and tried to push Louis off the bed. Louis grabbed the headboard stubbornly as Harry pushed him with both hands and feet. “Louis!” he whined and it was so out of character for Harry, it kind of surprised both of them. Louis shouldn’t be surprised, he shouldn’t be able to tell how Harry had stopped being playful with people months, if not years ago. He shouldn’t be able to know that Harry hadn’t felt so alive, until his eyes met the man next to him.

Louis was stronger than Harry was giving him credit for, which was stupid because Harry had seen Louis’ back when he got out of the shower asking for a clean T-shirt, and although it wasn’t as broad as his or Liam’s, for example, it still had defined muscles and a certain strength. Louis dug his foot in the mattress and pushed himself even closer, sticking his whole body on Harry’s. Harry forgot how to breathe like a normal human being, he felt hot, every inch of skin that Louis was touching was burning with desire for more.

He looked at Louis’ eyes, gazing at the colour of the sea in a summer morning. A bit cold but refreshing, making him feel alive and alert. Harry took a dive in Louis’ eyes. Although Louis had just confessed a very sad, personal story, he looked happier than ever since they met. His eyes were shining, and Harry couldn’t stop staring. He felt like he could write endless sentences about bright blue eyes. Sonnets, ghazals, short stories, novels. He could imagine in his head the words taking form, creating a masterpiece that wouldn’t belong to him, but to those eyes.

Harry wanted. He wanted to lean closer and touch Louis’ lips with his own. It was crazy, but he had never felt more attracted to a person in the first sight. He wanted to taste him. He wanted to give him back, make him feel good, hear his own name moaned by that raspy, soothing voice. _Wanted, wanted, wanted_.

“Do I still have something on my face?” Louis asked with a smirk. “You keep staring at me.”

“Nothing,” Harry said, not taking his eyes away this time. “You look… perfect. Just perfect.”

Louis’ smile grew bigger -the way his lips curved above the line of his teeth, reminded Harry of a lion. Simba. Louis looked just like Simba. Harry wanted to laugh with his own comparison in his head, but Louis’s breath was hitting his face, all sweet and bitter at the same time, smelling like the two pieces of chocolate they had stolen from Liam and shared after lunch and tobacco from the cigarette Louis had smoked standing in front of the window.

“Don’t,” Louis said, his expression sobered  abruptly. “I’m not perfect. I’m the opposite of perfect actually. I’m- you heard my story, I’m fucked up.”

Harry shook his head. “You’re not fucked up, that asshole is. You are… you have no idea.” Harry wanted to do it. He could do it. He could see it in Louis’ eyes how he expected it, maybe even needed it. Harry took a breath and leaned a little closer, his nose touching Louis’, the latter not moving away but not moving closer either.

“I am?” Louis whispered expecting an answer, his eyes darting to Harry’s mouth, biting his lips.

“Everything,” Harry whispered back.

The door burst open and Louis jolted away from Harry like he was hit by electricity. “Styles, my man!” Niall yelled, and Harry felt the urge to get up and punch him. “Oh, sorry!” Niall covered his eyes. “I’ll come back later.”

“Come in, Niall,” Harry sighed exasperated.

“No, no, I’ll let you do your thing, we can talk later.”

“Open your eyes.”

Niall did and looked at the two boys, who had a distance between them big enough to fit another person. Room for Jesus, as Harry’s old teacher used to say. “I’m sorry, I just came to check in on you. You were quite drunk last night.”

“And you slept on the couch,” Harry said remembering that Niall was responsible for Louis going to his bed and creating this turmoil of wild thoughts and emotions. “It was a nice convenience,” he made sure to be obviously sarcastic.

“I apologize.”

“What do you want?”

Niall jumped on the bed, and sat between Harry and Louis. “So,” he put an arm around each boy, “I have a gig tonight at a pub. You guys are coming, right?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m not working tonight, anyway,” Louis said, nodding. “It will be fun.”

“Harry?” Niall turned to look at him. Truth was Harry wasn’t working the next day either. But he had gone out the night before, and two nights in a row was too much, especially for him. But Niall wasn’t getting too many gigs lately and he needed support.

“Is Liam coming?” Harry asked.

Niall nodded. “Of course.”

“Then I don’t want to be left out, I’ll come.”

“Yes!” Niall said enthusiastically. “Boys’ night out.”

“We went out last night,” Harry reminded him.

“Yeah, but Louis was working. Tonight we get to get him drunk, instead of the other way around.”

Louis chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

“Wanna make a bet?”

“Don’t,” Harry warned. “He’ll lose but never go through with it.”

“I had nowhere to sleep,” Louis yelled back, unable to contain his laughter.

“Yeah, okay, sure, Louis.”

Niall pulled away his arms and went to get up. “Alright, I’ll leave you to whatever you were doing before I came in.” A flush of anger passed through Harry, when he was reminded that he had lost his chance,  but he only nodded as Niall opened the door. “We’re leaving at 8.”

“We’ll be ready at 7:30,” Harry promised.

Niall left the room, and Louis jumped off the bed. Harry knew if he saw a moment passed and gone, and their moment was so far gone, Harry wondered if he would ever get another chance.

“Alright,” Louis said, running to Harry’s closet. He opened one of the doors and peered inside. “What am I wearing tonight?”

Harry took the pillow Louis had slept on and put it over his head. Louis’ scent enveloped him, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to smother himself with the pillow or jump up and scream.  

  
~*~

 

The bar Niall was playing that night was small and cozy. Harry had been there a couple of times, and he had liked the place. There wasn’t a big audience yet, but Niall said that it was normal and they expected people to come after 10pm, when Niall would start his show. Usually he was accompanied by Ed with a second guitar, but that night it was Niall all by himself.

He had reserved them a table next to the stage, because he said he would need someone to get him beers throughout the night. Harry and Louis sat next to each other, and Niall excused himself to go talk to the bar’s manager. Liam would join them later, because he had received an urgent call about a case they had on Monday.

Harry looked around, hoping to spot someone to serve them, while Louis was looking through the menu humming to himself. “What do I want, what should I get?” he sing-songed.

“They have an impressive selection of beers here, if you’re into it.”

“Curls, I lived in Germany for five months, I breathed beer. Of course I’m into it.” He closed the menu and turned his full attention to Harry. “So I told you my story, you have to tell me yours.”

Harry tried to think of anything worth mentioning, but he realized that all his relationships were simple and lacking any real passion. They had ended in good terms; he was still talking with two of his exes. Sure, he'd had some one-night-stands during his college days, but none of those stories involved anything like Harry walking back home naked. At best, it was a drunken night leading to mediocre sex and a hungover morning.

“Um…” Harry struggled to find something interesting to say, “none of my boyfriends was an actual asshole. I mean some of them could have acted better, but I’m friendly with most of them,” Harry finally admitted.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me about the men who you made fall for you and broke their hearts.”

Harry looked at Louis letting out a confused chuckle. “What are you talking about?”

“You just look like the guy that no one can resist.”

Harry wanted to tell him how wrong he was. How he was always the one falling in love and having his heart getting broken, because he was too intense or too involved or too available. If anything, Louis was the embodiment of what he was describing. He looked just like the guy who had everyone wrapped around his finger with a smile and left a broken heart in each place he’s been. In fact, Harry would bet he was right.

“Plenty of people resist me,” Harry murmured, feeling himself blushing under Louis’ intense gaze.

Louis licked his lips and leaned closer, resting his head on his hand. “How?”

“I think you don’t see me clearly enough.”

“I think I see you the way you truly are.”

His heart was pounding. He wasn’t used to such blatant compliments. He wasn’t blind, he could see that there was a purpose behind Louis’ compliments. He had seen it when they almost kissed that evening, he could see it that moment in the way Louis’ eyes were drifting to Harry’s mouth as they talked, the way his whole body was turned towards him.

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late,” Liam said as he sat down next to Harry. “My boss called and demanded I’d deal with the case tonight. Fortunately, I managed to finish before Niall is on. So how are you?”

“We’re doing just fine,” Louis said cheerfully, straightening up. “We were discussing beers. Curls here said they have a wide variety, which is surprising for an American bar, because you people drink piss.”

“You got me there. Our beers are not the best,” Liam laughed. “Okay, I’m in for the beers. Harry, you’re quiet, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, mate. Don’t worry.”

How could Harry tell him he was still affected by the man sitting beside him, wearing Harry’s clothes, because he liked his shirts better apparently? How could he tell him that Harry could only see Louis and nothing else around them and every time someone else had Louis’ attention, Harry didn’t know what to do? It was insane, that’s what it was, and there was no way to explain it.

“Okay, I seriously need a beer. I’ll go order three for us and find Niall before he goes on stage.” Harry stood up.

“Get me the same as yours,” Louis said with a smile, touching Harry’s arm with his thumb. Harry trying to ignore the flames that Louis’ touch ignited.

“Sure. Liam?” Harry turned to his roommate.

“Same, I trust your taste in beer.”

Harry nodded and walked to the bar. Customers had started coming in, and it seemed like Niall would have quite the crowd, which was nice. He tapped the bar counter in the rhythm of the rock music booming from the speakers, as he waited patiently for the bartender to finish serving another group of people and turn his attention to Harry.

Niall approached him and put an arm around his shoulder. “My best mate!” he yelled in his ear excitedly.

“Are you drunk?”

Niall shook his head. “Had two shots for courage, but I’m fine. You know me, I don’t get drunk.”

“I know,” Harry agreed.

Niall waved at the bartender who made his way to them. “Hey, Horan, what do you need?”

“Harry?” Niall asked the taller boy.

Harry gave his order in a polite voice, making sure to smile at the man behind the counter. He knew how difficult the job could get.  

“Coming right up,” the man said, and he went to get him three bottles of his prefered beer, which he opened in front of him. “Enjoy.”

Harry went to get his wallet from his pocket. “How much is it?” he asked, opening it.

“It’s on me, dude,” Niall said, “don’t worry. Tom, put them on my tab, okay?”

Tom nodded and walked away. Niall helped Harry carry the drinks back to the table, where Liam and Louis were in the middle of an easy conversation. Harry placed a beer bottle in front of Louis, before he sat next to him, while Niall gave the bottle he was carrying to Liam.

“Thank you,” Louis said to Harry, turning his body towards him. “Liam was just telling me about your wild college days.”

“Wild college days?” Harry huffed. “I barely left my dorm room.”

“Now you’re lying,” Niall said. “It wasn’t long ago when you were going to college parties to get smashed.”

“You’re assholes. That’s not even true.”

“I’d love to see you getting smashed,” Louis said with a smile. “I bet you get all cute and snuggly.”

“He gets dirty,” Niall chuckled. “And by dirty I mean that one time, we were at a party-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Niall laughed out loud at Harry’s warning tone. “They are making shit up.”

“Oh, yeah,” Louis mocked him. “I’m sure you’re an angel,” he said sarcastically, probing Harry’s ribs with a finger.

Harry squirmed away from the sudden contact. “I am the most boring person alive. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dude, you’ve like written a book and sucked a lot of dick while in college. Not that boring,” Liam said. “But yeah, you’ve settled down lately.”

Harry didn’t want to tell him that everything he did in the past weren’t really him, but an effort to make something of his life, have some fun, feel young and alive like the rest of his peers. He didn’t also tell him that he hated the current state of his life, which was a daily routine with no interesting twists and surprises. Well, at least until Louis appeared.

“Okay, tonight we’re going to a club to get smashed. I really want to see you getting dirty,” Louis said enthusiastically.

“I don’t get dirty!”  

“Too bad,” Louis pouted. “Maybe I can change your mind after a couple of shots.”

Harry was feeling dizzy, and he hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol. He wanted to get up and run around the block, but also he couldn’t move. Louis tickled him playfully, making him squirm before he leaned closer to him. Louis rested his hand on Harry’s thigh, and Harry didn’t really know what to do with himself.

Niall stood up and cracked his fingers. “Got to go, boys. Wish me luck.”

“Break a leg!” Louis yelled. “We will be cheering for you so loud you won’t be able to hear yourself play.”

Niall laughed and walked away to go get ready. Harry noticed that Louis kept his hand on Harry’s thigh. He raised his head, his gaze meeting Louis’. Harry didn’t know what he was feeling really, just that everything was intense. Too much, but clearly not enough. They spent the rest of the night staring at each other, drinking together, mouthing the lyrics to Niall’s cover songs, swaying in sync, and messing and laughing with Liam, who was a champ and never complained.

The night couldn’t be better, until they found themselves in a club, dancing to dirty beats and chunking down horrible shot after shot. They were all tipsy, even Niall, who was overexcited, full of adrenaline after his successful gig. Liam had already disappeared with someone in a corner, and they were making out. Niall had found a group of  old college friends, and he had become the life of the group, making jokes and receiving bought shots and drinks all night. That had left Harry and Louis to people-watch from two stools by the bar, next to each other and near the crowd of dancers.  

“I think your wish will come true, I literally cannot see in front of me,” Harry slurred resting his whole body on his elbows behind him at the bar counter.

“But you’re not dirty yet, I want to see you dirty,” Louis yelled in Harry’s ear to be heard above the music, his hot breath that smelled like alcohol sending shivers down Harry’s slow body. “What did Liam mean when he said dirty? Like sweaty?”

Harry giggled, no more inhibitions controlling him, and he didn’t know if that was good or not. “That, too.”

Louis raised an amused eyebrow and smirked. “I want to know.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re one of the most exciting people I’ve ever met. You’re a fucking author for fuck’s sake, but then I go and learn you are also a wild party animal. I’ve seen author Harry, although you’re a prick and don’t let me read anything of yours, now I want to see dirty Harry.”

“Liam was exaggerating. I’m just a normal boy.”

“There is no way you’re a normal boy, Curls. I’ve met normal boys, and you’re not it.”

“If I’m not normal then what are you?” Louis lowered his eyes, his smile disappearing. “If you think I’m special, then you haven’t taken a good look at yourself. No one is more special than you.”

“I’m… not special.”

“Louis, seriously now. You’ve traveled the world, you have so many stories to tell, so many adventures. I literally have lived nothing similar.”

“It’s not about what life you’re living, it’s about the kind of person you are,” Louis mumbled.

Harry didn’t like seeing him so out of it suddenly. They were laughing, having fun, just a second ago, and now Louis looked like that first day he had walked in the café, distant and occupied by his own thoughts. Harry couldn’t bear seeing Louis in a bad mood. He stood up from the stool and stood in front of Louis.

“Come on, we’re dancing,” Harry said, feeling brave all of a sudden. He reached for Louis’ arm, and Louis followed him right away. They made their way between the dancing bodies and stood in front of each other. “I’m a horrible, horrible dancer, so sorry if I step on your feet or like embarrass you.”

“Curls, it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

Harry had only danced with other people intending to hook up with them, so he was used to getting closer, touching. He didn’t know if Louis felt comfortable with too much contact. Sure, all the signs showed that Louis was fine with intimacy. It was obvious when they had almost kissed that afternoon in Harry’s bed. It was obvious all night with the way Louis had his full attention on Harry and vice versa. There was something -there must be something- otherwise, Harry was losing it.

“Okay, are we going to stand here looking at each other? Come on, I want to dance.”

Louis put his arms around Harry’s waist and took a step closer, leaving a very small distance between them. Louis started moving his hips slowly, prompting Harry to follow him. Harry placed his own arms around Louis’ shoulders and moved in the rhythm that Louis was dictating. Louis looked at him through his long eyelashes, some strands of hair falling in front of his eyes. He licked his lips and looked at Harry with an expression he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t wonder, and it wasn’t need. It wasn’t the ache that Harry was feeling. It was something unique, and it made Harry’s stomach clench.

He really wanted this, to make a move, to do something with the energy he had every time he even spared a glance towards Louis. After all, Louis would leave, it wouldn’t be anything serious. He wouldn’t have to fall in love and go through a heartbreak. They could be friends, who sleep together, and then Harry could say goodbye to Louis when he’d leave the city and Harry behind him forever.

“Lou,” Harry murmured in a pleading tone. He didn’t know how to ask. Louis knew how to give, though. He pulled Harry even closer, bodies clashing against each other. Harry felt like he was suffocating and only Louis’ breath would help him breathe normally. Harry moved his hands down, touching Louis’ ribs, stroking him with his thumbs.

They moved together and although Harry was admittedly not a good dancer, he could see that Louis was affected too. His pupils were blown under the dark purple and blue lights, his mouth half-open, as they grinded against each other. Harry could feel his cock growing heavier in his impossibly skinny jeans, as the song changed. It was embarrassing how quickly Louis could get him going, but then Louis grinded particularly hard against Harry’s thigh, only for Harry to find that it was mutual. Harry’s eyes darted to Louis’ face immediately.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Harry admitted, the alcohol in his blood helping him forget his reservations against the idea. A terrible, terrible idea. An idea he couldn’t get out of his mind. “Your eyes- fuck!” Harry rolled his eyes as Louis turned his back to him and  stuck his body on Harry’s front. “You are wonderful,” Harry whispered in Louis’ ear.

“If you had any idea what you’re doing to me,” Louis said, turning his head towards Harry. Their lips were inches apart, and Harry knew this was it -no Niall or Liam or anyone else in the world to interrupt them. Just them and the raw need for intimacy and affection. “I had sworn I wouldn’t get involved with anyone in New York, but you’re making it so damn hard.” Louis grinded his ass against Harry’s crotch with the last word, as if he wanted to make a point.

“I wanted you since the moment I saw you. The moment you walked in, I knew it.” Harry was following the beat of the music, rolling his hips in a way he didn’t know he could or dared. It was absolutely filthy, and it was everything for both men.

“I want you to want me, Harry. I- fuck!” Louis rested his head on Harry’s chest as the latter rolled his hips harder. They were dry humping in the midst of a crowd, and Harry didn’t even care for once. “I know I said some things, but- but I was wrong. I want it, I want you.”

Harry didn’t need to hear anything else. With a swift movement of his hand, he grabbed Louis by the arm, and they were out the door and into the cold sunrise.

  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic bliss.

Harry and Louis stumbled on their way out of the club. Louis couldn’t contain his giggles, the sound making Harry giddy with energy, aching to be able to listen to Louis’ laugh forever. He could settle to listening to him for as long he would stay. The sun was rising, painting the sky with orange and pink splashes of colour. Memories of his days back in college, when he’d party all night, came back. He usually regretted it in the morning, when he had to wake up early the next day in order to study. Nothing was bringing him down from this high this time, though, and he had a gorgeous boy next to him. A promise for something great in front of them as they walked against the crisp air of the dawn. 

“I can’t wait for the subway or bus, can we like- do you have money for a taxi?” Louis asked. 

Harry wasn’t rich, far from it if he was honest, but he had enough money in his wallet for a taxi ride and a  raging boner to  try to conceal  the whole way home. They walked together to a busier street, and Harry raised his hand, hoping one of the passing  cabs would stop for them. After a couple of minutes, one yellow car stopped in front of them and honked. 

Harry felt Louis’ hot breath on his neck as he opened the door and got in, followed by Louis right away. Harry gave his address to the driver and turned to look at Louis, who had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he palmed himself above his jeans. 

“Louis,” Harry said in a warning tone. 

“Please, Harry, kiss me,” Louis whispered. 

Harry didn’t need to be told twice; he launched himself on Louis, kissing his neck softly, before he found the soft lips. Louis tasted like alcohol and tobacco. Kissing him felt like a drizzle on an autumn day, soft sweaters and hot cocoa, everything soft that made Harry feel warm. It was familiar yet new and exciting, like a first kiss always is. Harry felt Louis smiling into the kiss and he took the chance to slip his tongue inside his mouth. Louis sucked on his tongue, letting out a muffled moan. Harry would care about the driver, if he wasn’t occupied with sliding his hand up and down Louis’ back, as he deepened the kiss. 

“God, Louis, you’re killing me,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ skin, as he nibbled his neck. 

“I can’t wait to get home. I want to suck you off so bad.” Harry let out a moan at the thought of Louis’ pretty, pink lips wrapping around his cock. Louis kept talking with heavy breaths and moans interrupting him, as Harry sucked a bruise on his collarbone. “Fuck, Harry, feels so good. I wanted to drop on my knees for you the moment we met. I dreamed of you, jacked off to the thought of me riding you and then taking my time to fuck you. I- fuck- I need-”

“I’ll give you anything you need, I’ll take care of you, babe.” 

They kissed for the rest of the ride home. At some point Harry’s phone went off, but he ignored it knowing it would be one of the boys. He could text them later or explain himself when they got home. There was no way Harry would leave Louis hanging to answer to his roommates that moment. The driver stopped the car right in front of Harry’s building and grunted “we’re here.”

Harry took some bills out of his wallet and gave them to the man, not asking for change after the things he had to hear and see the boys do in the backseat of his taxi. Louis opened the door and rushed out, followed by Harry, who wrapped his arms around Louis’ body and pulled him to his front. He placed a line of kisses on his neck as they walked awkwardly together to get to the building’s main door. Harry found his keys in his pocket and gave them to Louis to do the job, while he peppered with kisses the bruise blooming on Louis’ skin. 

They were inside the building and the elevator with a small delay, because Harry felt the need to kiss Louis again, pinning him on the wall next to the main door. He only considered stopping when Louis moaned loud enough for the whole building to wake up and find them in the inappropriate position. 

When they were finally inside Harry’s apartment and then bedroom, Harry didn’t waste any time, before he took his own T-shirt off Louis’ body. “Gorgeous, Lou,” he whispered, kissing his collarbones and down his torso. “I love seeing you in my clothes.” 

“I wear them because they smell like you,” Louis admitted, “and because I know it turns you on.” 

Harry moaned and licked his way down to Louis’ stomach, dropping on his knees in front of the boy. “Fuck, I know you asked me to suck me off first, but I really want to do this, do you mind if I have a go?” 

“Fuck, shit, yeah, yes, Harry,” Louis said, panting. 

Harry unbuttoned the man’s jeans and pulled them down with one swift move. Louis placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders to find his balance and took them off completely. They were still tipsy, but the cold air and the racy ride home had sobered them both enough for this. Maybe it would be a quick blowjob, but Harry didn’t care, he just wanted Louis in his mouth. Harry started kissing along Louis’ thighs, licking a stripe on the crack between his hipbone and his thigh muscle. Louis squirmed away, and Harry looked up at him in question. 

“I’m a bit tipsy still, need to sit down for this.” 

“Oh, yeah. Okay,” Harry agreed. He pushed Louis on the unmade bed and crawled between his legs. He resumed kissing Louis, alternating between tender and rough, until his mouth hovered over the bulge in Louis’ pants. He mouthed the hard cock above the soft fabric of Louis’ underwear, eliciting a loud moan from the other man. 

“Fuck, Harry, please, please, please.” 

Harry couldn’t believe how done for they both were. Louis sounded so fucked out and they hadn’t even really started yet. If Harry wasn’t so drunk and tired after such a long day, and if he wasn’t impatient to get Louis in his mouth, he would edge him for hours until the boy would cry and beg for release that Harry would still deny him. He wanted to see Louis being a withering mess underneath him, just not yet, not that night. 

He looked up from where his head was resting on the inside of Louis’ thigh, where he was sucking a hickey, and marveled at the boy above him. Louis had his eyes closed, head tilted back just a tad. His throat was bopping with every breath he took. Harry didn’t waste any more time, slipping his fingers in Louis’ waistband and pushing his underwear down enough to reveal just his cock. Harry tried to play it cool, but fuck him if Louis didn’t have a nice cock. 

“You have such a pretty cock,” Harry said, wrapping his hand around it, pumping it lazily. “It’s perfect.” 

Louis whined and opened his eyes to look at Harry the moment he was darting his tongue out to give an experimental lick on the head. They both moaned together, not really believing that this was happening. Harry sucked the tip in his mouth, using his tongue to toy with the head, as his free hand gripped Louis’ thigh tightly.

“More,” Louis panted, making a conscious effort to not thrust up, “more, please, Harry.” The way Louis said his name made Harry want to obey. He sunk even lower, using his hand to stroke what he couldn't fit in. Deepthroating wasn’t an option yet with how tipsy Harry was and with how long he had been out of practice, but he was willing to try later. He traced patterns with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks to suck him. 

Harry himself was impossibly hard; he needed to get some relief. He let go of Louis’ cock and thigh in order to unbutton his own jeans and pushed them down to reveal his flushed cock. He left open-mouthed kisses all over Louis’ thighs, as he took his own erection in his hand and started pumping himself. He resumed sucking Louis’ cock after a moment, deciding to go for the throat this time. 

He took as much as he could, before Louis’ tip teased Harry’s throat. Harry made a gagging noise, but he was determined to go for it. He relaxed his throat, focusing on his hand working his own cock, and let Louis’ cock slip in. 

“Fuck, Harry, yeah,” Louis moaned. He was so loud, Harry was getting off just from the sounds that left the other man’s mouth. He was still suppressing himself from moving and Harry wanted to tell him that it was okay to fuck his mouth, in fact he wanted that, but he didn’t want to let Louis’ cock from his mouth, so he just used his hand to grab Louis’ hip and pushed him up. “What?” Louis asked confused. 

Harry looked at Louis through his eyelashes, glasses fallen on the tip of his nose, and blinked hoping to get his confirmation across as he started bobbing his head on Louis’ cock. Louis closed his eyes and sighed. 

“Do you want me to fuck your mouth, Curls?” Louis asked, and Harry hummed around him. “Fuck! You’re a miracle.”

Louis gave an experimental thrust, it was barely noticeable, and Harry hummed again his approval. And then it started. Louis was thrusting upwards, as Harry was bobbing his head up and down. Louis’ cock slipped between Harry’s throat a couple of times, gagging him, and the Louis backed out quickly. 

“Are you okay?” Louis asked, worried. 

Harry pulled away and looked at Louis with tear-filled eyes. “Louis, stop worrying, I’m not a virgin, just fuck my face.” 

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” Louis said, putting his thumb on Harry’s bottom lip to wipe some saliva. Harry sucked on Louis’ thumb never breaking eye contact. “You’re- fuck, Harry, I want you so much. I can’t wait to sober up tomorrow so I can fuck you.” 

Harry didn’t waste any more time, he went back on Louis’ cock and this time the other man didn’t hold back. He started making bigger, faster moves and Harry was in delight, because it had been so long since he had his throat fucked. Maybe years. All his  _ recent _ fucks were quite mellow. Harry wrapped his hand around the base of his cock to stop himself from coming embarrassingly early, while he searched for Louis’ hand with his free hand. 

He grabbed Louis’ arm by the wrist and placed it on his head, making sure that fingers were tangled on his messy curls. He used his own hand to showcase what he wanted and Louis moaned, and he pushed Harry’s head down, before he pulled his hair hard. It was Harry’s turn to moan around Louis’ cock. 

“I’m embarrassingly close,” Louis murmured. “Fuck, Harry, I’m close, babe, stop. You have to stop, I’m- I’m going to -fuck!- I’m going to come.” 

Harry pulled off and looked at Louis. “Come on my face,” he said, using his hand to jerk Louis off. Louis groaned and  took Harry’s glasses off his face, throwing them on the bed behind him, before he came moaning Harry’s name loud enough for the next-door neighbors to hear him. Harry opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out the last second to gather a few spurts with his tongue. He needed to taste him, have all of him. 

“So good, Curls,” Louis said breathlessly, trying to pull Harry up by the arm, but his strength seemed to be gone for the moment. Harry followed Louis’ movement to make it easier for him and soon enough he was sprawled on the bed, Louis above him kissing him hungrily, tasting himself on Harry, licking his own come from Harry’s face, as his hand found Harry’s cock and started pumping him hard and fast, with intent to make him come. “I want to suck you off, but it will barely be any good right now,” Louis whispered in Harry’s ear. “You sucked my brains out through my cock, so good, so good.” 

Harry moaned and looked at Louis pleadingly. He wanted to tell him that just his hand was enough, more than anything Harry had ever dreamt, but Louis chose that moment to twist his wrist and thumb his leaking head, making Harry reach his orgasm with a grunt, spilling on Louis’ fist. Harry rode out his high thrusting in Louis’ firm grip. Louis kissed him, licking inside his mouth filthily, and it was too much. Harry felt like his chest would explode, right after his dick. 

“I can’t believe this,” Louis chuckled as he lied next to Harry, close enough that Harry could feel the heat of his body. 

Tired after their early morning activities, Harry felt his eyes closing against his will. He turned his head towards Louis, who was looking at him with mischievous eyes and a smirk. Harry wanted to talk to him, wanted to tell him how good he was, ask him if he enjoyed it or needed anything, but his brain couldn’t find the right words. 

“’M tired,” Harry murmured closing his eyes for a long moment. He felt an arm wrapping around him, Louis spread Harry’s fucking come on his T-shirt. “You’re disgusting,” Harry laughed. 

“I can’t get up to clean myself. Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow,” Harry agreed and if he had one ruined T-shirt it was totally worth it. 

  
~*~

 

The sun was welcome on Harry’s skin in such a cold atmosphere. His  head felt heavy, his brain pounding in his skull, but also there was a deep satisfaction running in his bones. It didn’t take long for Harry to remember why, since the reason was pressed on his back, breathing little hot puffs of air on his neck. Harry’s smile spread on his face, as he tried to open his eyes. There was too much sunlight for his taste, so with a hand covering his eyes, he reached for the curtain and pulled it in front of the window blocking the direct sunlight, but leaving enough light come into the room. 

Fumbling with the blanket they had thrown on themselves, when they woke up because Harry wanted to take off his uncomfortable clothes for the rest of their sleep, he found his phone and glasses tangled in there. Its battery was almost dead, but he had time to check the time (11:23am), how many messages he had (six) and how many missed calls (thirteen). All the notifications were by Liam and Niall, with the exception of one call that was from his mother. He decided to call her later, since he was sure that he wasn’t able to talk and also because his brain would fly out of his nostrils if he didn’t get some coffee and breakfast in him right away. 

He turned his head and looked at the man lying next to him. He must have pushed the blanket towards Harry during the night, because he was covered by a single, white sheet that contrasted his smooth, golden skin. The sheet was tangled between his legs, barely covering his crotch and half his body. His mouth was half-open and his hair was a sweaty mess, but he never looked better before. Harry sighed content that Louis was the first image of the day and looked around searching for a pen and a notebook. 

If he didn’t write down his thoughts right away, he would have wasted one of the most, and lately rare, inspiring moments of his life. He crawled to the foot of the bed and opened one of the bookcase’s cupboards. He found old notebooks, already half-fool with boring sentences and words with no emotion behind. It was beyond Harry why he wasn’t getting rid of them. He picked one, returning to his previous position after he found a pen lying next to his laptop. 

Louis stirred in his sleep, as Harry settled next to him, lying on his belly with the notebook in front of him. Although his head was still aching and his glasses were smudged with Louis’ fingertips, he was still too eager to write everything down, make a memory of this moment. He wrote about passion and intimacy, he wrote about blue eyes and strong, tattooed arms. He wrote about hickeys on smooth skin and bitten lips. He didn’t know what he was writing about exactly, what his story would be, he just kept on writing, until there was nothing to write anymore. 

“’morning,” he heard a gruff voice from beside him and Harry snapped his head right away. The beautiful boy smiled at him sleepily and Harry felt his heart bursting. Louis looked like he had woken up a while ago and the thought of him watching him as he wrote made Harry blush and hide his face behind his hair. 

Louis reached out and pushed the curls behind Harry’s ear. “You’re beautiful when you’re writing. I could paint you, you know, if I had any idea how to paint. Your lines right now- do you ever have any idea how you look?” 

Harry shook his head and closed the notebook, putting it on his side. “Good morning,” he murmured in his low, morning voice. 

“No, don’t stop,” Louis said and tried to reach out for the notebook, but Harry was in the way, so Louis’ body was found underneath Harry’s face and who was Harry to deny himself the privilege of kissing Louis’ tummy when it was in front of him. He trailed a line of soft kisses from his tummy to his ribs, suckling the skin there a little bit, until Louis started squirming. “Harry,” he laughed as the boy made sure to leave a mark on his torso. “Tease,” Louis said and he shuffled down the bed until they were face to face. 

Louis went in for a kiss, but Harry turned his head resulting in Louis’ lips touching his cheek. “Morning breath,” Harry explained. 

“I don’t care.” Louis put his hand on Harry’s cheek and pulled him in for a soft kiss. “Can I read what you wrote?” he murmured on his lips, pecking him again. 

Harry shook his head. “Nope.” He got up and sat on his knees aware that he was naked in front of Louis, but if anything, Harry was never ashamed of his body. “Come on, we need to clean up and have some breakfast, I’m starving.” As if on cue, his stomach growled. “Did you hear that?” Harry pouted. 

Louis nodded. “You’re a minute away from collapsing, Curls, we must save you,” Louis indulged him. He got up and stood in front of him, placing his hand on Harry’s hips. He kissed him again, deeply, but with no heat. Harry hummed in the kiss and enjoyed it, until his stomach growled again. Louis laughed into the kiss. “Okay, you need to be fed.” 

“What can I say, I’m a big man, I need more food than you.” 

“You absolutely do not. And cut the ‘big man’ crap, I’m just as big as you are.” 

Harry threw his head back and laughed out loud. Louis pouted and got up from the bed. “No, come back!” Harry yelled and reached for Louis’ arm. 

“No, you’re an asshole,” Louis said, but it was clear he was just messing around. Harry jumped off the bed and wrapped his arms around Louis, locking him in a tight hug. “Let go of me, you brute,” Louis huffed. 

“You’re my prisoner now.” Harry pulled him back, throwing both of them on the bed. Louis provided little to no resistance, considering he turned around and straddled Harry’s thighs, leaning down for a soft peck. 

“Now you’re mine though,” Louis said. “What should I do with your body?” 

“Worship it?” Harry suggested, and that earned him a soft shove on the shoulder. 

“If we didn’t need to take a shower and eat something, I’d already have been three-fingers deep in you by now,” Louis said. “But as a big man myself, I’m starving too. Also I smell like death.”

“Alright, let’s start with a shower,” Harry agreed, although his dick twitched in the thought of Louis working his fingers inside him. “Do you want to go first, or can I have the honor?” 

Louis looked at him puzzled. “Why not together?” 

Harry gave Louis a half smile. “Sure.” 

Half an hour later and an attempt at a shower while teasing each other and laughing, Louis was sitting at the kitchen island, while Harry was making them both breakfast. Eggs on toast seemed like the most proper choice after such a long night. Harry added a bit of ham and bacon in there, just for energy. Louis had already a cup of tea in front of him, while Harry had finished his coffee with three big, hot -very hot- gulps. There was soft morning music coming from Harry’s phone, which was left on the counter and the silence between him and Louis was comfortable and cozy. 

Harry shared the breakfast in two plates and placed one in front of Louis, who looked at him with tired, yet bright eyes. “Thanks,” he murmured with a soft smile. “Smells delicious.” 

“Hope it is as well.” Harry sat on the stool next to Louis and picked up his fork. At this point, he could swallow the whole plate in a minute. He took a bite of eggs and it was good. They kept the comfortable silence between them as they finished their breakfast -within minutes, of course- and Louis offered to wash the plates. 

Harry excused himself to go get dressed, since he was in his underwear still and left Louis doing the dishes, while humming softly to the music. The room still smelled like sex and sweat, so Harry opened the window wide and let the cold air of the gray day get in and freshen up the room. He opened his closet and chose a pair of black sweats and a simple, white T-shirt. He wore them and walked back to the kitchen, right on time when Louis had finished the dishes. 

Louis turned to look at Harry and a smile spread on his face, reaching his eyes. “So no adventures outside today?” he asked as he approached Harry and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. 

“Nope. I’m too tired and hungover. I feel like watching movies and chilling. Do you want to join me?” 

“I’m working tonight, so I want to get as much sleep as possible, but I wouldn’t mind your presence around me, while I’m dozing off. I like having you around me.” 

“I like that too,” Harry agreed, and he pecked Louis’ nose. 

“Around me, on me, underneath me…” Louis nipped at Harry’s jawline, making him chuckle. “Maybe we can repeat last night after we get some more rest, what do you think?” 

“I think your ideas are brilliant, Lou,” Harry said placing his hands on the swell of Louis’ ass and squeezing softly. 

“I think so, too.” 

  
~*~

 

As the afternoon rolled in, Harry got to discover a few things about Louis. One, he liked to cuddle a lot. Two, his movie taste was horrible. Three, he was a really great kisser.

When Harry saw what movie Louis chose, he was determined to distract him from it the whole time. He had started with soft kisses behind his ear and down his neck, which Louis didn’t exactly reciprocate, but he hummed happily with his eyes still focused on the TV screen. Now, Harry wasn’t one that was ever called needy, but he also didn’t like to be ignored in favor of stupid action comedies with no quality or dialogue whatsoever. 

Trying to appear nonchalant, Harry put his hand underneath Louis’ T-shirt, which used to be Harry's, but he doubted he’d get to wear it again. He stroked the smooth skin up and down Louis’ torso, before he rested his hand on his lower abdomen, playing with the soft hair of the line underneath his belly button that led to his crotch. He could feel Louis shiver in his arms, but he didn’t even turn to look at him. 

If anything, Harry wasn’t one to give up. He started sucking a hickey on Louis’ neck, nipping  and licking the spot with intent. 

“Harry…” Louis warned, rolling his head back. 

“Yes?” Harry asked with fake innocence. 

“You’re a prick.” 

Harry chuckled, letting his breath brush the wet spot underneath Louis’ ear, where he had sucked a mark a second ago. “Go back to the movie, Louis, you’re annoying me.” 

Louis snapped his head towards Harry and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, seeming amused. “It’s amazing the amount of bullshit you’re ready to spew, Curls, and also quite disturbing. As if you care about the movie.” 

Harry looked at Louis’ lips, which once more looked delicious. He leaned in and kissed him briefly. “You’re right, I don’t care about the movie at all.” With these words, Harry grabbed Louis by the waist and turned him around so that he could straddle his lap. It wasn’t like Louis made it difficult for him; he immediately attacked his mouth, kissing and licking and asking for more. Harry of course gave him anything he wanted. 

That’s how early evening found them with swollen red lips, disheveled hair and chasing their respective orgasms rutting against each other. Louis’ neck was littered with hickeys and Harry was sure that Louis had bitten him hard enough to leave a mark at least three times. 

“I am so close,” Louis murmured, leaving open-mouthed kisses on Harry’s shoulder, his T-shirt thrown at the other side of the couch. They hadn’t bothered with their sweatpants and although Harry hadn’t come in his pants since he was a teenager, there was something erotic about the possibility. 

Harry slipped his hands inside Louis’ sweats, only to find out that he was naked underneath. He pawed at the flesh and squeezed, eliciting a filthy moan from Louis. 

“Please, Harry, let me come.” 

Their panting filled the room as they thrust against each other, their hard cocks rubbing together providing sweet friction to both. Louis kissed down Harry’s jawline, tracing the line of his bone with his tongue. Harry’s fingers stroked Louis’ ass softly, approaching his crack with each different move. He slipped a finger and rubbed circles closer and closer to his rim. Louis was letting out sounds that Harry had never heard from one of his partners before, filthy moans and low grunts, rocking his hips back and forth, chanting Harry’s name as if he was in his mercy. 

“Would you like that? Me fingering you, opening you up for my cock, babe?” Harry whispered in Louis’ ear, rubbing circles around the sensitive nerves. Louis groaned, frustrated, and he pulled away to look at Harry. The blue of his eyes had almost disappeared as his pupils had been blown wide. His hair was a mess, falling all over his face, and his neck looked like he was attacked by an animal. Harry had never seen anything like him yet.

“Harry, please, do something,” Louis gave a particularly hard thrust. “’M so fucking hard, I think I’ll die.” 

“No, babe, I’ll take care of you.” Harry pushed his finger just a tad, not adding any particular pressure, just enough that his tip almost dipped inside Louis’ hole. Louis made an indescribable sound and shot into his sweats, grunting Harry’s name throughout his quick and surprising orgasm. Harry was close himself. Louis kept rutting against him until he came with a soft cry, breathing in Louis’ scent mixed with sweat and Harry’s cologne from the clothes he was constantly stealing. 

“That. Was. Amazing,” Louis said, planting a kiss on Harry’s mouth. “Fuck, you’re good, Curls. You’ll be the death of me.” 

“I aim to please, Louis.” 

Louis climbed off Harry’s lap chuckling. “Isn’t that some quote from that ugly movie, the Fifty Shades one? Miss me with that bullshit.” 

“I have no idea, I’ve never read that piece of trash.” 

“I’ve seen the movie,” Louis said. Harry rolled his eyes, because, of course Louis had seen it. Louis caught drift of Harry’s expression and  shoved him on the shoulder. “Have you seen Jamie Dornan’s ass?” 

“No, because I’m not a shallow piece of shit like you,” Harry teased him. “I appreciate more than just an ass.” 

“Yeah, what?” 

“A pretty dick,” Harry said, and Louis kicked him on the shin softly. 

They heard the door open and  quickly tried to groom themselves. Louis passed Harry his T-shirt, as he grabbed and threw on his. Their sweats had drying come on them, but there was a blanket they could use to cover their laps. Louis snuggled closer to Harry and threw the blanket over their legs, just in time, as Niall and Liam approached them. 

“Hey, guys, what are you up to?” Niall asked cheerfully as he jumped on one of the armchairs. Liam went to stand next to him. 

“We’re watching a movie,” Louis lied easily. 

Harry was glad they were on the same page. He was enjoying Louis’ company, but he didn’t want his roommates to find out about something that had barely just happened. Liam glanced at the TV screen, where the Netflix menu was on. 

“What?” Liam asked. 

“Just finished Fifty Shades of Grey, Harry was begging me to watch the movie with him.” 

Harry’s roommates looked at him confused and a bit terrified. That piece of shit! Harry pinched him underneath the blanket, and Louis let out a yelp. “He’s lying,” Harry said. “We were watching Titanic.” 

“Ew!” Louis cried. “I hate it. Don’t tell me you like it. It’s a deal breaker.” 

“I actually love it!”

“Ugh, I can’t believe this.” 

Liam coughed and the men turned to look at him. “You have a little something on you.” 

“What?” Louis asked looking down to make sure his wet crotch wasn’t on display. 

“You have… um… marks…” 

“Where?” Louis was perfect at pretending he was clueless, Harry’s heart was beating so fast he felt like it would fall out of his ass. 

“Everywhere. Both of you,” Liam said rubbing his neck awkwardly. 

Louis made a show of looking closely at Harry’s neck and collarbone and then he turned his gaze back to Liam. “Oh, yeah, I see. What about them?” 

Niall groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh, my God, I can’t! Are you guys fucking?” 

Harry wasn’t exactly shocked by Niall’s crudeness and lack of self-awareness, but he still blushed and looked down, hoping that it wasn’t evident on his face that he had Louis’ cock in his mouth just the previous night. 

“Clearly,” Louis said, and Harry snapped his head, eyes wide in warning. “No matter that we’re in full clothing, under the blanket. That’s how it actually happens. It’s not like a dick has to get in a hole.” 

“Maybe you were blowing each other or something,” Niall shrugged. 

“Or maybe we were play-fighting when we got drunk yesterday and this is the result,” Louis said. “So no, we’re not fucking, but if we do, we’ll invite you.” 

Harry let out a shaky breath he was holding all along. Louis was a fucking genius who just saved their asses. 

“Whatever, you’ll fuck at some point,” Niall said certain, before he got up to run to his room. 

Liam looked at them apologetically. “I am so sorry that I said anything, I just saw you like this and assumed. I’m sorry, it was stupid of me. I’ll go to take a shower and leave you to- um… whatever you were doing.” Liam turned around and walked away. 

“I’ll cook dinner!” Harry yelled after him, feeling guilty for the lies and making him feel bad, when in reality he was right. 

Louis waited for Liam to disappear in his room, before he launched himself on Harry and kissed the hickeys one by one. 

“Nice save, almost got a heart attack,” Harry said putting his hand on Louis’ jaw and bringing him close to capture his lips to a quick kiss. 

“Oh, well, it’s my secret talent. You write, I lie.” 

“And you do it well.” 

They shared a couple of chaste kisses, before Louis pulled away and let a small distance between them. 

“So, you said something about dinner?” he asked with a cheeky smile. 

Harry pushed the blanket off him and got up. He needed to clean up and change immediately. “You’re helping, pest,” he pulled Louis from the arm to get up. 

“Sure, I’ll be the official taster.” 

“You will cut the vegetables,” Harry said slapping Louis’ butt softly. 

Louis jumped up surprised and turned to look at Harry with a smirk. “Yeah, that, too. Now let’s go get clean, I want to suck you off.” 

“Louis…” Harry groaned, feeling his dick twitching in interest although he just had come. 

“As if you don’t want to.” Louis walked away from Harry swaying his hips in a comical way. 

Harry sighed and looked at him until he disappeared in Harry’s room. “Well, I guess I’m fucked,” he murmured to himself, before he followed Louis. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The struggle behind the adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some implied/referenced homophobia in this chapter so, please, be careful.

Harry was aware in his half-asleep state that he was supposed to get up in a couple of minutes to get ready for work. Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned his back to the window to avoid the morning sunlight and moved closer to the body lying next to him. He hummed happily, leaving small kisses on the man’s neck, making him sigh in response. It felt like a morning routine already, although it had barely been a week since they started sleeping tangled underneath the sheets. 

With the first ray of sunshine or the first alarm clock, depending which one came first, Harry would snuggle close to Louis and pepper him with kisses, knowing that he would miss his face, when one or both of them had to get up for work. Louis would open his eyes slowly and turn his whole body towards Harry. Sometimes they would just cuddle, sometimes he would kiss him good morning before they’d get up to get ready, sometimes he was up for something more. 

That morning it was a  _ something more _ situation. As soon as Louis turned around and pressed his lips on Harry’s throat, Harry could feel his hard-on pressing on his thigh. 

“Someone is in the mood,” he said playfully to the blond boy, who just hummed positively and started leaving open-mouthed kisses on Harry’s exposed skin. “I have around twenty minutes, before I need to get up and get a shower.” 

“I’ll try to be quick,” Louis’ voice barely left his throat. “I just want you.” 

He climbed over Harry, straddling his hips. Harry had never seen anyone looking as effortlessly beautiful in the morning as Louis. The way his skin was softer than usual, the color it had under the small rays of sunshine coming from the window, his hair hiding half of his face, which should be a crime considering how beautiful his face was, but still he looked angelic. Harry put his hands on Louis chest and caressed him softly. 

“I had a dream,” Louis confided. 

Harry smiled in response to his raspy, morning voice that was familiar by now and Harry loved. 

Louis leaned down and lay on top of Harry, placing his head in the middle of his chest. He could hear Harry’s heart beating faster than normal. 

“What was it about?” 

“You.” Louis turned his face and sniffed Harry, which would be weird if Louis didn’t place a soft kiss right after on the exposed skin of his chest. “Actually about you and me. We were at the beach in Fuerteventura, but there was no one else, just the two of us.” 

“Where is Fuerteventura?” 

“Canary Islands. I’ve been there, actually worked there for two months.” 

“Okay, so we were at the beach and...” 

Louis giggled and hid his face with a hand. “It got dirty,” he muffled. 

“And you’re embarrassed? Louis, we’ve had each other’s come in our mouths, you can’t possibly be embarrassed of me.” 

“It’s not that… it was just… it got too intense. It was late evening and the sun was setting... the colors were beautiful. If you ever go there, you have to visit the beach. It’s amazing. Anyway, it was late evening, and we were lying on the beach, just the two of us, sunburnt and tired from a whole day’s adventures. So we were just lying there, kissing. It was wonderful.” 

Harry smiled contentedly. He liked hearing Louis talk. There was a certain smoothness in his voice that calmed Harry down, when he didn’t even know he was stressed. “And why is this embarrassing?” 

“Because then I blew you and fucked you raw, but that’s not romantic.” 

Harry burst out laughing, his movements rocking Louis, who giggled too. “Nice dream.” 

“It was,” Louis agreed. “Wished it was real.” 

“Well, I can’t promise the beach part and the raw fucking, because I need to get to work, but if you want to blow me, then by all means, I’m not stopping you.” 

Louis slapped his chest playfully and got up, looking down at Harry with eyes filled with lust. He was naked, they both slept naked, so Harry could see his hard cock resting on his thigh. He felt his own cock twitching at the beautiful sight in front of him. Louis must have felt the movement, because he smiled mischievously and started lowering his body, trailing kisses down Harry’s torso. 

“Wait,” Harry stopped him. Louis looked at him like he just announced he murdered five people and he was next. 

“What?” 

“You’re hard, too, and I won’t have time to get you off.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I don’t care, I have a hand and very good control of my wrist.” He started kissing him again, but Harry stopped him by putting his hand in Louis’ hair and pulling softly. “Seriously, Curls, do you want a blowjob or not?” 

“I was just thinking something a bit more… mutual?” 

Louis looked at him with a raised eyebrow and grinned, biting his lip. “Well, I’m not going to argue with that.” 

And if Harry was late fifteen minutes for his shift, then it was totally worth it. 

  
~*~

 

“We don’t need more cookies, Lou. Seriously, we already have ten packs at home.” 

Harry and Louis were doing their weekly visit at the grocery store. It had been kind of a thing since the first week they met and it kept happening for the next five weeks. It felt nice having a companion with him, even if Louis was a pain in the ass most of the time, grabbing whatever caught his eye and insisting on his brand of beer, because “honestly, Curls, it’s so much better.” 

“But Niall and Liam eat everything, before I get my hands on them,” Louis whined. 

“Liam doesn’t even eat sweets, he hates sugar, and I’m pretty sure that Niall has his own stash. So it was you, who eats all the cookies.”

Louis looked at him like he was offended. “Me? I would never. I always share my biscuits with you.” He gave Harry the puppy eyes, holding the cookies close to his chest, and who was Harry to say no to that face? Who was Harry to say no to Louis in general? 

Rolling his eyes, he took a step back and gestured towards the cart. “Go ahead,” he said with a sigh, but he was sure his fondness was visible from miles away. Louis jumped up and down, happy he got his way, and kissed Harry on the cheek before putting the cookies inside the cart. “It’s just cookies,” Harry said, delighted by the way Louis’ mood was making them both feel elevated. 

“It’s what biscuits -or cookies or call them whatever you want- represent, young Harold.” 

“What?” 

“The blowjob I will give you to thank you,” Louis said, stopping Harry  in his tracks. Louis liked saying those kind of things nonchalantly, while they were doing daily tasks like shopping groceries or washing dishes or cooking. Louis turned to look at him, confused as to why Harry was standing in the middle of the aisle looking at Louis like he didn’t belong to this world. He didn’t. He was a completely new species. 

“You need to filter your thoughts, Lou.” 

“So no blowjob?” he pouted. 

“Shut up.” 

Harry began walking again, trying to stick to the very specific list he had organized before he left home. Louis tried to get him to buy anything peculiar he saw, but Harry managed to say ‘no’ most of the times.  _ Most _ being the key word. They were walking down the alcohol aisle, trying to settle on red or white wine, when Harry heard his name being called by someone behind him. 

“Harry! Hey, Harry!” 

Harry turned around and almost bumped into a short woman with red hair and thick glasses. He recognized her from his classes at university, Barbara something. 

“Hey,” Harry said, friendlier than he felt, although he remembered that the girl was nice that one time they had worked on an assignment together. “Barbara, how are you?” 

They shook hands, the girl smiling wide. “Good, good. You?” 

“You know. Same old.” 

“Are you still working at 78 café? I used to love that little place.” 

Harry felt embarrassed as he nodded positively. “Yes, still there.” 

“Oh, great. I work for a publishing house, trying to become editor. Maybe in a couple of years.” The way she said it made Harry feel inferior, like working at the café was something to be ashamed of. Sure, Harry wished he was a published author. He had tried. Not making it was already bringing him down, so listening to people judging him for it made him feel ten times worse. 

“Harry is finishing his book, aren’t you?” Louis stepped in. He extended his hand to the girl, who looked at him, confused, like she hadn’t noticed he was standing there the whole time. “Louis, pleased to meet you.” 

Barbara took his hand and shook it gently, yet taken aback. “Barbara.” She turned to look at Harry. “Did you really write a book? Do you have a publisher?” 

“No, not yet,” Harry admitted.  Why did Louis have to say that? Harry wasn’t finishing his book. He hadn’t written in a while. 

“Oh, well, good luck with that. It’s a tough world out there for you, young authors.” 

Harry was confused, because he was sure they were the same age, but Louis intervened again with a smart mouth, words coming out like a sweet poison and Harry… well, Harry felt glad he wasn’t alone. 

“He doesn’t need luck, he has talent. You know what they say, those who can’t, teach. Or publish in this case.” 

Barbara’s smile disappeared but she kept her coolness. Honestly, Harry didn’t even care, he wanted to grab Louis and kiss his face and thank him for being the loveliest person ever. 

“Yeah, sure. I see you made some interesting friends since we graduated, Harry! Nick would never have these manners.” 

Harry didn’t know if he should correct her. Louis was a friend, but he was also more than that. Maybe not. Maybe it wasn’t Barbara’s business anyway. Especially with the whole Nick thing. Nick was just a random guy he hung out with maybe five times, but he was too popular, making Harry the subject of talk around the campus for a while. They weren’t even friends. 

“Yeah, Nick wouldn’t feel the need to talk like that, we weren’t that close, so…” Harry wasn’t ignoring the way Louis’ body was almost blocking Barbara from Harry in a protective way. He wasn’t sure if he realized what he was doing, but Harry’s heart warmed up at this. 

“Alright,” Barbara said with a little cough. “I guess I need to go back to shopping. It was good seeing you, Harry. Nice to meet you, Lewis.” 

“Louis,” Harry corrected her right away. “And it was nice to see you, too. Good luck with that promotion.” 

Barbara nodded and walked away slowly. Harry didn’t even care to understand what she said under her breath as soon as she turned around, because he was too occupied gazing at Louis like he hung the moon and stars in the sky. He did that a lot. Looking at Louis. He was also almost convinced that Louis really was responsible for the moon and the stars and the sun and everything beautiful in this world. 

“What?” Louis asked Harry a bit sharply. He seemed to still be irritated, and Harry was more endeared than ever. 

Shaking his head, Harry let out a breathy little laugh. He was feeling his heart expanding, too big to fit in his tight chest. The blood in his veins felt hot, he was sure he was blushing. “Nothing,” he murmured to Louis, placing his hands on the cart handle to continue their shopping. 

Louis wasn’t having it. “No, tell me. Are you upset that I talked to her like that? She was nasty. Her comments were disgusting, Harry. She was acting all better, because she got a job. Great, but shut up!” 

The cart stopped abruptly and before Louis could say another word, Harry’s lips had found his. The kiss was simple and chaste, but it held emotions that Harry had never felt before, emotions he was scared of, knowing that this was just a friends with benefits situation. Louis would be gone, and he would take his kisses with him. The kisses, the moon, the stars, the cookies, his eyes, everything from Harry. 

“What was that for?” Louis asked, confused but with a playful smile. 

“You are… something else.” 

“Is that a good or bad something else?” Harry pecked him once more, before he went back to pushing the cart. Louis followed him right away. “Tell me, Curls. Did I do something good or bad?” 

“We need more lube. Can we get an unflavored this time? Seriously, the flavors give me nausea.”

Louis nodded, but he seemed like he was still waiting for an answer. Kissing in public wasn’t something they had done before. At least not at a grocery store with no intention of having sex in the next half hour. No one even knew about them, not even the boys. Louis didn’t seem bothered, and Harry was mad at him for it. He should be bothered. He should act offended or something. He should start being an asshole, before he’d have to go. Give something to Harry to work with, hate him. Harry didn’t want to miss him, but as he looked at him squatting to choose between the barbeque chips or the classic salted ones, he already felt an emptiness inside his chest. He would be gone, and Harry had no idea what that would mean. 

Would they talk again? Text or e-mail? Would Louis go to some warm place to find someone new, while Harry would be left back in New York dreaming of the nights they had spent together?  

“I think I’m not in the mood for crisps anyway,” Louis said, standing up again. “Let’s go home. I want to be lazy in bed today, watch something at your crappy laptop, have a little bit of sex. I promised you that blowjob, didn’t I?” He started walking towards the cashiers, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Louis turned around to look at him with eyes that burned a thousand fires inside Harry. 

“Good. Everything you do is good, Lou,” Harry whispered, breath knocked out with the realization of how much he loved Louis. 

Louis smirked and stood on his tiptoes, placing an easy kiss on his lips. “Right back at ya, Curls.” 

Harry let himself get lost in Louis’ words, ignoring the danger of falling for a man who would eventually leave.

  
~*~

 

“Fuck, Louis, that’s it. Yeah, babe, I’m coming, fuck!” 

Harry shot hot and thick in Louis’ mouth, who pulled back and smiled smugly as he swallowed, maintaining eye contact with a very much spent Harry. That fucking tease would be the death of Harry. His oversensitive cock gave an uncomfortable twitch, when Louis climbed on him, straddling his lap, to give him a deep kiss. Harry’s hands rested on Louis’ naked back, stroking him softly, as the kiss turned from filthy to sweet pecks. 

“That was amazing. A+ once more, Lou.” 

Louis chuckled on the kiss, before he rested his head on Harry’s chest, getting comfortable. It was night outside, they both had the whole day and night off, and they had decided to take advantage of it, especially since Liam and Niall had gone out clubbing to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Harry had to fake sick to get out of that one, and although they didn’t seem to believe him, they let him be. 

“You inspire me,” Louis said tiredly. He had already gotten off first with the help of Harry’s mouth and fingers. “Actually, your cock does. Excellent cock, congratulations.” 

Laughing at their silly jokes, they settled further down on the bed, lying, Louis in Harry’s arms, as the light of the moon illuminated their skin. The contrast of Louis’ tanned skin on Harry’s pale, made Harry feel a specific kind of way inside. He couldn’t ignore how perfect they looked together, how Louis fit in his arms. Yet, he had to- for his own sake, he had to start hating Louis soon. 

“Imagine if I hadn’t met Frank. I would never have met you,” Louis murmured, his breath on Harry’s chest sending shivers all over his body. “I’m actually quite glad he dumped me; he was a bore.” 

“How come you started traveling?” Harry asked. Louis’ words sounded so honest, they probably were. Louis seemed to enjoy Harry’s company and always looked at him with sincere eyes that made Harry want to run ten miles, but also sit still and admire him for hours. Louis was a constant drag and pull of emotions, and Harry was starting to get antsy. He wanted to know, but he was also scared.

“I left home when I was 16, although left is a big word. I was more like kicked out.” 

“What?” 

“Not everyone is a supporter of ‘it’s okay to be gay’ campaign. My father certainly wasn’t. I came out at 15, when I had a crush on one of my teammates in the football team. It took me some time to realize that there was a reason I was fantasizing him taking showers whenever I wanked.” He let out a chuckle at that, almost fondly. “Anyway, I came out to my family, and it seemed that it was okay. My mom hugged me and kissed me and told me she was proud.” 

Louis face was soft as he talked about his mum. This was the first time he made any reference to his family. Harry had guessed that they didn’t have any contact, but he had reserved his questions. He was curious, but Louis feeling comfortable and safe inside his house was more important to him. 

“My sisters were really young, but Lottie, the older one, said that she doesn’t care at all. I think she understood. My father didn’t talk at all. I should have known that something was wrong. I brushed it off as a not-being-comfortable thing.” 

Harry swallowed hard. He had never imagined how much pain a person can go through, but he always suspected that Louis had a rough past. “And?” he croaked out, coughing against the lump in his throat. “What happened?” 

“He waited five days. One day I came back from school to find my things packed. My mom and the girls were conveniently out for lunch. He told me I was disgusting and he didn’t want to live under the same roof with me, kicked me out.” 

Fighting back tears, Harry pulled Louis a little closer. Maybe Louis was trying to sound nonchalant, but Harry could feel the tense muscles, the short, sharp breaths, the trace of pain in his voice.

“What did your mom do? You said she was proud of you, why did she let him kick you out.” 

“My mom doesn’t know, at least she didn’t back then.”  Louis snuggled a little bit closer, pressing a wet kiss on Harry’s chest. Harry didn’t want to see him crying, he wasn’t sure his heart couldn’t take the sight of his boy -his sweet, delicate boy- suffering. “If my father left us, she wouldn’t be able to raise the girls on her own. I didn’t want to force her working 24/7, so I backed down. I wrote a letter that I was running away, left and never looked back. It’s for the best, really.” 

“No, it’s not,” Harry opposed right away,  voice wavering and a few tears scarring his cheeks . “Your mom and sister must miss you terribly, you must miss them, too.” 

“I do,” Louis admitted with a sigh. “I miss them every day, but honestly they are so much better without me.” 

“How can someone be better without you?” How would Harry ever be whole again? Louis had already so many parts of him, parts he would take with him when he would leave.  Now he finally had his whole heart.

“Curls, I told you before, I’m a mess. I’ve done so many things and mistakes I’m not proud of.” 

“You’re- you’re not a mess.” Harry struggled to find any other words, besides ‘I love you’ at this point. Because fuck, he loved him so much, but how could he say it? How could he put his heart on display and allow Louis to bask on all the emotions Harry had, when Louis didn’t intend to return them, when Louis wanted to leave him forever? “You are wonderful. If the world could see you through my eyes, maybe they’d see how amazing you are.” 

Louis snapped his head up and looked at Harry intently.  Both men were a mess of tears and emotions -different for each of them, but intense and heartbreaking. “I wish I could see in the world the honesty I see in your eyes, Harry.” He pushed himself up, reaching on Harry’s level, to press a kiss on his lips. It made Harry’s heart beat a little faster. Every kiss, every touch was starting to cause a pain he was addicted to. “You don’t see it, but you are one of the greatest people. You are kind, smart, funny, talented.” 

“You’ve never even read one of my works.” 

“I have faith in you. I know you must be good. There’s something about you that tells me you can do no wrong.” 

“I’ve done a lot of thing the wrong way, you have no idea.” 

“Tell me.” They resumed their previous position, this time, Louis’ arm wrapped a little tighter around Harry’s torso, tracing patterns on his side. 

There wasn’t much to tell. Harry had truly lived a boring life. Sighing, he began talking. “I was born in England, mom and dad got divorced, we moved in here, I had quite the lonely teenage years, so I picked up reading. I decided I wanted to write, too. After winning two competitions, I thought it would be a good idea to study English Literature and Creative Writing. Apparently, my ideas are stupid, because I am currently working as a barista.” 

“But you make mean tea.” 

They both laughed softly, but Harry’s laugh was empty, a cover for the realization that his life had no meaning. He had forgotten about his aspirations, his dreams. He had stopped writing a long time ago. Last time he wrote something, it was when he saw Louis sleeping next to him more than a month ago. 

“What do you enjoy writing about?” 

“Life. I mean, sure, the book I tried to publish was a fantasy adventure, but it wasn't really my genre. I like writing about life, things and people I see around me. I- I might be good at that?” 

Louis propped himself up a little to look at Harry, appearing confused. Harry had no idea what confused him about what he said. “Then why that fantasy adventure?” 

“Is what the people want, Lou. I need to be flexible if I want to become an author.” 

“Do you expect to become an author by imitating others? The people who like fantasy adventure write about it because they enjoy it. Why write about it, if you don’t like it?” 

“It’s complicated. You won’t get it.” 

“I’m not stupid.” He didn’t say it in a mean way, his voice was all soft, the way it got whenever he was ready to fall asleep or when he woke up or when he was talking about things that made him happy.

Harry shook his head. “No, you’re not. I know that, but I don’t want to talk about it. It’s embarrassing.” 

“You feel uncomfortable with me?” Louis pretended to be offended, but Harry could see the hint of a smile in his eyes. “Curls, I had my tongue in your ass more than once, how can you be embarrassed to talk to me?” 

If Louis knew how many things Harry was afraid to talk about... He wondered for a moment, if he should be open about everything. His writing, his emotions, his feelings. But he knew that admitting his love would scare Louis off. Harry wanted to live this for as long as he could. Ten more days or ten more years, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t lose him. 

“It’s different,” Harry explained. “Some things are more personal to be shared.” 

“Oh, okay.” Harry didn’t miss the way Louis’ face fell, but honestly he couldn’t talk. Louis pulled away and went to lie on his side of the bed. The other side of the bed. The other side. “We’ll talk tomorrow, then. Good night, Curls.” 

It was obvious that Louis’ mood changed with Harry’s refusal to talk. Harry would hate it if they went to bed angry. Pretending they were something more than what they were, he scooted closer and wrapped his arm around Louis, who had turned his back to him. 

“Can I get a goodnight kiss?” 

Louis looked up. “Sure?” 

Harry didn’t reply, he leaned down and placed his lips on Louis’ to a comfortable, familiar kiss, hoping that he could convey his feelings this way. Hoping that Louis would understand and maybe return the love. Tell him he’s planning to stay after all, be with him. They pulled away before the kiss turned urgent. Louis smiled, still discouraged, but a bit calmer. 

“Good night, Curls.” 

“Good night, Lou.” 

Pretending that this was something more, Harry cuddled Louis as they both fell asleep slowly. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I am sorry for taking this long to update, but it is now finished so enjoy the rest of the story. 
> 
> To anyone who still follows this story: thank you for your patience.

“That’s it, yes, Harry. Right there. Fuck!” 

Louis cried out as Harry’s fingers brushed his prostate. An afternoon that had started as a simple lazy day in, watching a Friends’ rerun, ended exactly the way that Harry was hoping. To be honest, sex on the couch wasn’t the most comfortable, but little did he care, when he had Louis in his arms.

For the past ten minutes, Louis had given up on his effort to pretend he had any control anymore. He was just a heaving mess on top of Harry’s body. Harry didn’t even care about anything else but to get Louis there, see him fall apart in front of his eyes. Louis always fell apart beautifully, all sparkly eyes and bitten lips. Louis’ orgasm was always like a work of art. 

“Come on, baby, come for me. Make a mess on me,” Harry prompted, picking up his pace. 

“Fuck! Almost there.” Louis started pushing back on Harry’s fingers, riding them, while his trapped between their stomachs cock was rubbing against Harry’s hot skin, using the friction to chase his release. “Almost there, Harry, please.” 

“What do you need, tell me and I’ll give it to you.” 

“You, I need you inside me.” 

Harry paused, then froze. They hadn’t done that before. They had done almost everything but that. It was a bit of a surprise, since they were practically living in each other’s pockets for a while now, but it was working for them. Well, apparently, until that moment. 

Louis stopped moving, placing a hand on Harry’s cheek. His hot breath hit Harry’s face, spreading shivers down his arms and spine. “It’s—” Louis whispered, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

Not wanting wasn’t the problem. Wanting too much was. Harry wanted too much of Louis, he wanted everything, and every time Louis offered a new piece of him, Harry fell a bit more in love. It felt like he was losing all control of his life, like he was being pulled by a string that Louis was holding without being aware of it. 

“I want to, of course I do,” Harry reassured him. He carefully pulled his fingers out, not missing the way Louis whined at the emptiness. Every sound he made set Harry’s skin on fire. “Just let me go get a condom, I didn’t know—” 

Louis nodded, getting up from Harry, who didn’t let him stand up all the way though. Harry pulled Louis to straddle his lap and kissed him, taking him by surprise with the urgency his lips traced down his neck. Louis’ hands came to rest on Harry’s face, caressing his jaw softly with his thumbs. 

“I want you, you have no idea how much. Sometimes—” he took a deep breath and kissed Harry again, nibbling at his bottom lip, “sometimes, I think I’ll go crazy from how much I want you.” 

“I’m fucking crazy for you, Louis,” Harry said colouring his voice with all the sincerity he felt as he spoke. “I am.” 

They kissed deep and hard, ignoring their need for air, just for a few more moments of breathing each other. It wasn’t them who broke away the kiss, but a shriek that came from behind them. Harry pulled Louis closer, instead of pushing him away, grabbing the blanket that was always on the back of the couch to cover their half-naked bodies. The inevitable had happened. They had finally been caught. Of course.  

“I am so sorry,” Niall said. 

When Harry turned to look at him, he found him covering his eyes, turning to walk away. “Niall, wait, I— we can explain.” 

“It’s fine, you’re big boys. To be honest, I figured you were boning,” Niall said with his back turned to them. “I mean all those noises from your room and the hickeys… I am actually happy for you.” 

“Thanks, mate,” Louis said unabashedly. Harry, on the other hand, was dying from embarrassment. So many years and he had never been caught with any of his partners by his roommates until that moment. Honestly, it was just his luck. Well, it was also their fault for fucking on the couch, but they were supposed to be alone all day. 

“I’ll leave you to it and tell Liam to back off. Um, Harry, can you clean the couch after?” 

“Yes,” Harry said, feeling like his cheeks and chest were on fire, embarrassment making the blood in his veins pump faster. Louis leaned and pecked both of Harry’s cheeks softly with a chuckle. 

Niall finally walked away, muttering awkwardly to himself, and Louis started kissing down Harry’s neck again, but the mood had been destroyed. On some level Harry was relieved things had turned out like this. He didn’t want to share such an intimate moment with Louis on a couch, rushed and with the danger of Liam or Niall returning. He wanted it to be perfect. Louis deserved romance, candles and nice sheets, not an old couch and the sound of Ross freaking out about his stolen sandwich. 

“Not into it anymore, sorry,” Harry murmured, hoping Louis wouldn’t feel rejected. “Niall is not exactly an aphrodisiac.” 

“It’s okay, love,” Louis said, booping Harry on the nose. “I want to get you off, though.” He started moving back and forth, his cock rubbing against Harry’s. The sensation drove them both crazy. As much as Harry’s mood had been ruined, he still was hard, so he reached between them and grabbed both their cocks in his large hand, enjoying the way they slid against each other, as Louis thrust his hips forward. 

“You know exactly how to make me crazy, don’t you?” Harry said, tightening his grip around them both.

“Always crazy for you,” Louis panted, throwing his head back and parting his lips, as he came closer and closer to his orgasm. “Fuck, Harry, always, always.” 

They both came all over each other, moaning each other’s name.  _ LouisLouisLouis _ was everything Harry could think, breathe, feel, talk. They looked at each other, and Louis smiled, but Harry couldn’t. He couldn’t, not when he knew his boy would be leaving him soon. 

  
~*~

 

The news came unexpectedly a week later. 

Harry and Louis were having lunch at the café, during their short breaks, enjoying sandwiches and hot tea made by Harry. It was cozy and familiar for both. Maybe they had known each other for a short amount of time, but being constantly together with someone had the effect of creating a bond that wouldn’t have formed under different circumstances. Or maybe it was the magical way Louis carried himself. He entranced people and made them his. Harry was his. 

“I—” Louis breathed deep through his nose. Harry gave him a fleeting glance before he refocused on his lunch. “I got my paycheck from Gabi today.” His voice came out quavering as he spoke to Harry, which only made the knot in Harry’s stomach even tighter. “With the money from the previous month and this month’s salary, I think I might be able to knick a cheap ticket. With a few stops in between, of course, but cheap enough to afford it.” 

Harry honestly felt sick. He knew all along this would happen one day, but it still knocked his breath out, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. It was too soon for Louis to leave. Harry tried to school his expression, appear cool, as if his heart wasn’t almost beating out of his chest. However, his voice matched Louis’ shakiness when when he spoke. 

“Going to Greece after all?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s for the best. I have some friends, they’ll help me find a job for now.” 

Harry wanted to tell him not to go. He wanted to tell him to stay, be with him, but it was obvious Louis had made up his mind. He was already planning his ticket, he had talked to his friends, he was excited to leave as soon as possible. Who was Harry to dampen his excitement with his stupid feelings? They were just feelings, they would go away, as soon as Louis would board on that plane, maybe even before. Maybe Harry would wake up the next day, and he would have stopped loving Louis. Maybe he would be lucky, and this wasn’t love. 

“Alright, we can book your ticket tonight, if you want to,” Harry suggested with a shrug. He would be supportive, he wouldn’t be a prick. At the end of the day, they were friends first and foremost. 

Louis finished his tea and looked at Harry, nodding slowly. “Sure, yeah, that would be awesome.” 

Harry couldn’t be near Louis anymore; his whole chest was burning and aching. This was reality, his fear was becoming reality, and he couldn’t do anything to change it. He stood up, unable to look at Louis anymore without thinking of the day he would get on a plane and disappear forever. 

“I need to get back to work,” Harry said with a strained voice. He couldn’t cry, he wouldn’t. “I’ll see you at home tonight, alright?” 

Louis looked up at him, his chin trembling. He looked hurt. Or maybe it was Harry’s wishful thinking that Louis cared for him and their time spent together. That was most probably it. Why would he even be hurt? “Oh, okay. I need to go back to Gabi’s anyway. I’ll see you tonight.” Louis stood up and took a weary step towards Harry. 

Harry should had stepped back, he should had started putting distance between them, but he wasn’t so strong. He couldn’t resist Louis’ touch, as he placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, or his lips when he kissed him softly. He couldn’t even stop himself from returning the kiss, holding Louis close for a few more seconds, as if they meant something to the forever he would have to spend apart from him. 

“I need to go,” Louis murmured after a moment, his voice soft, but distant. “We’ll talk tonight.” 

Harry nodded and said goodbye, as his boy turned around and left. 

  
~*~

 

They didn’t talk that night or the next. 

They were barely speaking in general, they hadn’t even kissed or touched each other, and Harry was trying to understand what was happening. Had he done something wrong, or was Louis distancing himself, like Harry was initially planning to do? That didn’t make sense. It wasn’t Louis who was hurt. It wasn’t Louis who would need to learn to live without the man he loved again. Louis would be fine. He would find someone new and exciting, someone better. Yet there they were, Louis avoiding Harry at all costs, and it was starting to take a toll on him. 

“Mate, what’s wrong?” Niall finally asked after three days of having Harry moping around the house whenever Louis was at work or sleeping. “Are you sick or something?” 

Harry raised his head from his book; reading was helping him cope a little bit. He had gone back to classics and stories he had forgotten or never appreciated before. “What?” 

“Are you sick?” Niall repeated, taking a seat next to Harry on the couch. “You’ve been acting weird the past few days. You’re moody, and you don’t talk. You stopped cooking your delicious meals. I’ve  had to live off Liam’s shitty food, Harry, I’m dying.” 

Harry forced a smile and put his book down to talk with Niall properly. He was feeling a little guilty about the way he'd behaved towards his roommates. “What do you want me to cook for you?” 

“Nothing, dumbass. This is not about food, this is about you. Is everything okay?” 

Harry nodded. He wasn’t ready to admit to Niall that whatever he had with Louis had ended already. He wasn’t ready to make his fears reality; the fact he hadn’t even said his final words to Louis. Any words. “I’m ace.” 

“Yeah, you look like it.” 

“What do you want me to say, Niall? That I’m sad about a relationship ending, when it hasn’t even started?” 

Niall furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” 

“Louis is leaving,” Harry sighed, defeated. Maybe saying it to Niall, hearing the words out loud, would help him get it together and move on. 

“What do you mean he’s leaving?” 

“I mean he’s looking for tickets to leave the US and go to Greece or some place, I don’t know.” Harry rubbed his face with his hands, and then gathered his hair into a bun, using the tie he always kept around his wrist. “He stopped talking to me. He doesn’t even touch me when we sleep. I— I think he wants to put some distance, but it doesn’t make any sense. He’s the one leaving, not me.” 

“Woah, woah, relax, take a breath.” Harry hadn’t realized he was hyperventilating, until Niall put a hand on his shoulder. “When is he leaving?” 

Harry tried to breathe. In, out, in, out. Steady, little breaths. “I don’t know. I’m waiting for him to rip the bandage off and tell me that it’s over and he’s going his own way.”

“You sure look incredibly sad because of a hook-up.” 

“He’s not a hook-up. He’s—” Harry blushed in the thought of saying what Louis meant to him. “He’s everything I need, Ni. He’s perfect, and he’s not mine. He never was and never will be.” 

“Shit!” Niall shook his head at Harry’s words, mouth gaping in surprise. “I thought you had casual sex, I had no idea you were in love with him.” 

“Of course I am!” Harry cried. He did it. He admitted his feelings to someone. Even that someone wasn’t Louis, it felt good taking this off his chest. “It’s Louis, everyone is in love with him.” 

“Does he know?” Harry shook his head. “Are you planning to tell him?” Harry shook his head again, and Niall slapped his head playfully, but it ended up hurting more than he expected. “Why?” 

“Because he made a decision to leave. I can’t give him my heart just for him to stomp all over it.” 

“You’re so dramatic. Go tell this boy you love him and ask him to stay. I’ve seen you dating other guys for months, if not years, and you’ve never looked so miserable for a relationship —whatever relationship— coming to an end.” 

Harry felt his eyes welling up with tears. This was the end, wasn’t it? Fuck! He didn’t want to cry in front of Niall. He didn’t want to cry at all. He stood up abruptly and looked away. “I will be fine, don’t worry. I’m fine. It’s for the best really.” 

The apartment door opened and closed, interrupting their discussion. Harry rushed to wipe away his tears and gave Niall a warning glance as Louis walked into the apartment with hunched shoulders and heavy steps. Harry couldn’t overlook the bags under his eyes or the crease between his eyebrows, but at the same time he didn’t know how to approach him. 

“Hey,” Niall greeted him with his usual enthusiasm, even though Louis didn’t seem like he could appreciate it at the moment. “What’s up?” 

“Came to take a shower, I need to go to the bar for my shift in an hour.” He approached them, placing a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Are you okay, mate?” 

“Me?” Niall furrowed his eyebrows and turned to share a glance with Harry, who preferred to pretend that he wasn’t ready to throw up. This was the first time he and Louis had been in the same room without any of them sleeping, and Louis was obviously ignoring him. Maybe Harry  _ had  _ done something wrong. “I am fine. H and I were talking about you actually.” 

Louis cocked an eyebrow, finally looking Harry's way.  “Were you?” 

“Yeah. H told me you are leaving us, is it true?” 

Louis sighed, walking around the couch to take a seat next to Niall. “I guess it is. I wanted to tell you, say goodbye to both you and Liam, but—” 

“It’s fine, Lou. We’re just gonna miss you so much, you’re so fun to be around.”

“Thanks, Niall. I am going to miss you all so much.” 

The awkward pause that followed carried everything that had gone unspoken since Louis announced to Harry that he was leaving. Harry felt Niall tugging his arm, but he ignored him, opting to pick up his book again. 

“Lou,” Niall said suddenly, “H was telling me he wanted to talk to you.” 

“Oh,” Louis sounded genuinely surprised, sending a pang of guilt up Harry’s chest. Was he being distant himself? “Well, I am here now.” 

“Then I guess I better leave you two alone.” Niall got up, squeezing Harry’s arm reassuringly, before he left for his room. 

The air felt heavy around them. Normally Louis would have attacked Harry with kisses and cheeky jokes to make him laugh, he would have tried to convince him to join him in the shower, his arms would have been resting around his neck. None of that happened. Louis stayed where he was, and Harry didn’t dare to raise his eyes to look at him. 

“What did you want to tell me, Haz?” Louis asked. He sounded exhausted, and Harry wasn’t sure if he was tired from work or of him. 

“I—” He wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted him to stay, that’s all he knew, but it was too late for that. “I guess I wanted to ask if you booked your ticket.” 

Louis sighed. Harry turned his head to look at him, he looked breathtaking even though his eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched. “That’s all?” 

Harry shrugged; it seemed he couldn’t say anything right. He was trying to be supportive of Louis, he didn’t know what else he wanted from him. Did he expect Harry to beg him to stay? Did he expect him to lose every bit of self-respect he had left only to be rejected? 

“Great, then I guess there’s nothing else to say,” Louis got up, but stood awkwardly there, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You know what, Harry? I’d prefer it if you were more honest with me.” 

Harry gaped at him, confused, but most importantly, hurt. What was he even talking about? “What?”

“I fucking hate being a burden. I lived my whole life on my own, I was doing just fine, but then you decided to treat me as a charity case and invite me to stay with you, only to get tired of me and act like you can't wait for me to leave!” 

“What the hell are you even talking about?” 

Louis began pacing in front of the TV. "I have a hard time understanding what's in your head," he panted angrily, pointing at Harry accusingly. "You want me gone, yet you are the one who insisted to open your home for me." He stopped, throwing his arms down in defeat. "And to be honest, I don't know where all the fucking fits in this."

“You make no sense,” Harry whispered. Louis truly thought Harry wanted him gone. 

“It’s simple, Harry, do you want me gone or not?” 

“No!” Harry protested. “No, when did I ever say that?” 

“Do you want me to stay?” 

Harry paused, staring at Louis. His pose was so certain, he knew what he wanted, he was so sure of himself. Harry was just playing a losing game. 

“Does it matter?” 

“I don’t know, does it?” 

It didn’t. Louis was about to leave and this discussion wouldn't change that. Harry couldn’t fathom why Louis wanted him to admit he needed him, if he didn’t even plan to stay. If he wanted to stay, he would have discussed it with him, before he  announced his plans, as if Harry was no more important than Niall or Liam or Gabi. 

Louis stood there waiting for an answer that never came. “Alright, then. I guess I better go to work. Nothing else to say.” He stormed out of the house, leaving Harry alone in the living room. 

  
~*~

 

Last time that Harry cried, he had failed a class and had to work overtime to pay for it again. Harry didn’t cry. Sure, he got emotional over movies and there were some happy tears here and there, but he rarely cried about his life. This time, though, he fell apart. He crawled under the covers and cried himself to sleep for the first time since he was a teenager and hormones had control of his mind and body. This time it was Louis who was in control.  

When Louis returned from work a few hours before dawn, he didn’t lie all the way across the bed. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s body in a protective, warm hug. Harry woke up, feeling his chest hollow, like Louis had ripped it open and had stolen his heart and lungs. He turned his head slightly to look at the tired man, whose face appeared gloomy. This was it. He was going to say that he didn’t want to be with Harry anymore. Be with, have sex with, whatever this was. Harry couldn’t bear the thought of being dumped by Louis, before he even left. 

“You look beautiful, H,” Louis whispered on Harry’s neck. “The most exquisite creature I’ve ever seen, but so, so, so stupid.”  

“What?” Harry asked, his voice hoarse from having just woken up. He coughed, trying to clear his throat from sleepiness and the lump that didn't go away last night. Really, it seemed it was present there since the moment he crossed paths with this man. 

“I-“ Louis looked at Harry’s lips, and he leaned for a soft, sweet kiss. “I booked my ticket for next week.” 

And that was the moment that Harry’s heart stopped. His voice wavered when he talked. “Good. Was it cheap?” 

Louis nodded, frowning. “Ye— yeah, it’s within my budget.” 

“Goodnight.” 

Harry turned back around and closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t cry. If he fell asleep, he wouldn’t cry, right? If he fell asleep and woke up after Louis left, he wouldn’t have to see him going. He wouldn’t have to deal with sympathetic looks from Niall and Liam’s millions of questions. He could just ignore everything and sleep. Sleep and read. 

Hot lips traced the skin of his upper back, and Harry felt like his insides were roaring and protesting the touch. Too much, it was too much —it was making him needy, aching to have everything— but Louis was leaving, taking anything Harry ever thought he had. 

“Harry, can you— can we?” Louis’s voice was small and insecure. “I miss you.” He took a sharp breath against Harry’s skin.  “I’ll miss you.” 

No, he wouldn’t. He was lying. If he missed Harry, he wouldn’t leave. He’d stay. For Harry, for them, for what they’d become so quickly. 

“Harry,” Louis whined, sounding needy. “Please, turn to look at me.” 

“I’m trying to sleep,” Harry lied, but the emotion was evident in the way his voice cracked. He turned around and let Louis hug him close, allowing the tears to fall down freely, wetting Louis’ naked body and staining the bed sheets. 

They stayed there for a while. Not moving. Not talking. Uneven breaths, Harry’s sobs and hands on each other’s skin. It wasn’t enough, nothing was, Harry didn’t know what to do with himself, he was crawling out of his skin with the need to find something to satisfy his eternal ache for Louis’ eyes in his, Louis’ body close to his. 

“Please,” Harry whispered. 

“What do you want, Harry? Anything you want, you can have it.” 

_ Stay _ . 

“Kiss me.” 

They kissed like they had never kissed before. Tongues tasting each other, trying to memorize the movement and the scent. Harry felt like he was drowning, choking on everything he wanted to say. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Louis wanted to go, and who was Harry to stop him? Who was Harry to not give Louis everything he wanted, even if that was to be away from him? So they just kissed, kissed until they had to breathe again, but even when they pulled apart, their hands kept caressing each other’s bodies. 

“I want everything from you, Haz,” Louis pecked him tenderly, stealing all the words Harry had in his mouth, leaving him speechless, breathless. “Everything.” 

“I want to give you everything,” Harry murmured. He already had. Harry didn’t feel like himself anymore. Louis had stolen every part of his mind, and Harry had nothing left to give. It occurred to him that this was the reason Louis was leaving. He wasn’t enough. 

Louis shook his head, and Harry swore he saw a few tears slipping down his sharp cheekbones. He decided to act as if he hadn’t seen them, act like all was perfect. He manhandled Louis, pinning him on the mattress and climbing on top of his wonderful man. Louis whimpered, chasing Harry’s lips with his, begging for a kiss. Harry gave him it; he would give him anything he asked. Louis’ hands caressed his back softly, but Harry was eager to give and maybe take for once. He rolled his hips forward, adding pressure between their bodies. Louis whimpered again, louder, and Harry knew their roommates could hear them, but he didn’t care. He wanted to experience Louis without any restraints; he didn’t want to hold back. 

“Can I fuck you, Lou?” Harry asked, being certain about the answer from the way the blue eyes looked at him pleadingly. “Do you want me to?” 

Louis nodded. “There’s nothing I want more than to feel you.” 

Harry felt nervous, like this was his first time, but at the same time he moved with steady hands and knowing exactly what his next move should be. He kissed down Louis’ neck, tasting the salty skin and smelling the smoke and alcohol on him. If he was anyone else, Harry would have pulled away and demanded that he took a shower, but this was Louis. Harry loved Louis in a way that didn’t know disgust, and the concept of stopping touching him was unknown to him. Louis’ fingers dug in Harry’s hair and he pulled softly, every time Harry left a mark on his body. Harry wanted to leave a thousand marks, force Louis into thinking about him even after he was gone, the way Harry wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about Louis for a long time. 

They moved slowly but eagerly, tasting each other and exchanging sweet words, sweet kisses that turned to filthy words and biting kisses. Later, Harry had three fingers inside Louis, hitting his prostate with intent, like he was punishing him for leaving, but at the same time making sure he felt good. 

“Haz, I can’t anymore, I need to come,” Louis whined, before he pushed his body up and kissed Harry’s lips open-mouthed and desperately. 

“Then come, Lou. Do it.” 

“No,” Louis protested immediately. “No, no, no.” His tone became frantic. “No, I want to come with you inside me. I need you. Please, Haz. Please, please.” 

His words sounded like sobs, maybe they were, Harry couldn’t tell. All he could do was pull his fingers out, making Louis whine, but Harry ignored him in favor of his plans to take care of him in the best way possible. He turned around and crawled his way to the end of the bed, where his bookcase was. He opened a drawer and searched for the condoms he was certain he had in there. Condoms and more lube. He felt arms wrapping around his middle and pulling him back, needy fingers gripping on his flesh right under his butterfly tattoo. Lips caressed his back and Harry rushed to find the damn supplies and return to Louis, his Lou. He was his for a little while, and Harry allowed himself to think about it. 

When he turned around, he met lips and breathy moans. “Want you, I can’t wait anymore.” 

“I’ll take care of you now, my Louis, don’t worry.” 

Harry laid Louis down and rolled the condom on carefully, before coating his cock with some more lube. Louis stared at him, anticipating the next move. Harry leaned down, capturing everything he couldn’t stop thinking about in a hot kiss, before he pulled away. “How do you want to do it?” 

“I want to see you.” 

Harry nodded, pleased with the answer. He wanted nothing more but to see Louis fall apart underneath him. Louis opened his legs and Harry fitted himself between them, bumping his cock, before he aligned himself with Louis’ hole. He pushed inside slowly, carefully, as not to break the delicate boy in his arms. But Louis seemed like he wanted to be broken, he started pushing back, gripping Harry’s flesh for dear life. 

“Come on, Haz, please.” 

Harry wanted to plead himself, but he didn’t know what for. He didn’t know what he wanted, other than Louis. He closed his eyes and pushed all the way in, making Louis cry out and then moan. Harry had to stay still for a second, concentrate, because the tight heat around his cock and Louis’ eyes looking at him earnestly would bring him on edge before he had the chance to live a moment of this incredible connection. 

Louis couldn’t wait though, he started moving on his own, as much as he could underneath Harry’s weight. He whimpered and kissed and bit Harry’s lips, until he started moving. Harry pulled all the way out, only the tip of his cock inside, and thrust back in a little harder. Louis hissed and kept moving, inviting Harry to keep on going.  He picked up his pace, fucking into Louis like this was the last night he was seeing him. Maybe it was. It felt like it. Louis was letting out little desperate  _ ah, ah, ah’s  _ with every thrust that hit his prostate just right. 

Harry couldn’t believe how beautiful Louis looked with sweaty hair stuck on his forehead, bright pink cheeks and mouth open; only gasps and moans could be heard in the room. His heart was full of love, aching to keep Louis there forever, but he had to let him go. He couldn’t guilt him into staying- it wasn’t what Louis wanted. Harry wanted him, fuck, how much he wanted him, but he knew that he shouldn’t put him in a position to choose. He could only offer everything he had and hope that Louis would still remember him in ten years, the way that Harry was sure he would remember this moment. 

“Please, please, please,” Louis chanted, digging his nails in Harry’s back. “I need to come.” 

Harry reached for Louis’ cock between them and stroked him hard and fast, making the other boy get to his orgasm with a loud cry, a few tears escaping his eyes. Harry followed right after, because of the way that Louis clenched around him, shooting inside the condom with a muffled cry. A cry that turned to sob, because this was it. This was the first and probably the last time he was connected to Louis like that. 

Louis’ hands came around to clutch the sides of Harry’s flustered face. They forced Harry to look at blue eyes, red and wide. “This, right here, is everything. I don’t care where life will take me, I don’t care if I don’t see you again. Harry, you’re everything, fucking everything to me.” 

Harry couldn’t reply. He pulled out gently and lay next to Louis, making sure he was touching him, afraid that he would disappear at any moment. Neither made a move to go clean up or get a wet cloth. They stayed there, lying next to each other, shoulders touching and hearts heavy with unexpressed emotions. 

If Harry knew this would be the last time he saw Louis, he would never have let him go. 

  
~*~

 

Harry woke up in an empty bed to an emptier note on the pillow next to him, where Louis should have been lying. 

 

_ I had to go. Sorry for running away but I don’t deal well with goodbyes. It’s better if your last memory of me is our wonderful night together. _

_ Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. _

_ Thank you for everything you gave me. _

_ I will always remember you. _

_ Yours, Louis _

 

Harry held it in his hands for hours nevertheless, and when he finally had to use his hands, he put it inside his wallet as to not lose it. Like he had lost Louis. 

The first day, he spent in his room. Niall came to check on him, and Harry couldn’t find it in his heart to tell him what happened. He faked ill and asked him to not bother him at all and let him “sleep the cold out of his system.” Harry was aware that Niall knew something was wrong right away by the gentle tone in his voice, but he didn’t pressure him for an answer. He let him be and only brought him food around dinner time, asking him kindly to eat something. Harry ignored the plate and slept a few more hours. 

The next day he couldn’t avoid getting up. He had to go to work. He still couldn’t eat, the knot inside his stomach making him feel like he was close to throwing up at any moment. He walked around and worked in robotic mode, not talking unless it was necessary. Liam and Niall tried to talk to him, they asked him where Louis was, but Harry ignored them opting for a shower.

By the third day, Liam and Niall realized that Louis wasn’t coming back. They didn’t say anything though. They tried to lure Harry with video games and pizza, but he didn’t care for company. He wasn’t ready for the pitiful stares and the comforting hands on his shoulder. Maybe after a couple of days, maybe after he knew that Louis had left the States for good, but not yet. He thanked them and went to his room to sleep some more with the note in this hand. 

The fourth day began with Liam bringing Harry breakfast and demanding that he eat it all. Harry managed to nibble a piece of toast for a while, until he gave up and  got up to start his day with a shower. At work, he was completely distracted, but Jin covered for him just fine. He thanked her and told her he owed her, but she just rubbed his arm sympathetically and told him to go home and get some rest. 

The fifth day Harry wrote. He grabbed an old notebook and a blue pen and spent the whole day holed up in his room pouring every emotion, every tear he hadn’t shed since the moment he woke up that morning without Louis in his life anymore. He wrote poems and then a story, each chapter reminding him of Louis even more. 

He finished his book and finally joined his roommates for a proper dinner after days of worrying them. Louis was gone for good. He was gone from his life, and he was gone from his system. He had to go anyway, and Harry was a step closer to his goal. Even if he had Louis’ note in his pocket at his meeting with a publisher a month after. 

  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

“Jared found the T-shirt unexpectedly one day. It was left unwashed in the bottom of the basket, forgotten. It was the first piece of evidence that anything happened, that Jared didn’t create everything in his mind. He stood there in front of the basket, black T-shirt in hands, unable to move. Waiting for the inevitable meltdown.  But nothing came. Not a tear or a lump in his throat like every time he had thought of him those first months. Just the fond memory of a smile and crinkly eyes. Jared closed his eyes, drawing in a deep, slow breath and then releasing it around a smile , bringing the T-shirt close to his chest. He was fine. He had managed to leave the past behind. Closure had finally come.” 

Harry finished reading the passage aloud and raised his head to see the enthusiastic audience, clapping politely. 

“So that’s it. I hope I didn’t spoil much, did I? Please, buy the book anyway.” A few chuckles came from the audience, but his eyes fell on his friends, watching him from the side with proud eyes. His gaze lingered on the tall, brown-eyed man, who was smirking back at him. Harry had to force himself to look away, when the man nodded towards the audience and mouthed “questions”. 

“Does anyone have any questions?” A few hands shot up in the air, one of them belonging to Niall. Of course. “Please, sir, with the blue eyes and awful shirt.” 

Niall rolled his eyes and stood up. “We were wondering if famous Harry Styles will grace us with his presence tonight at the bar, since he’s not picking up the phone.” 

A few chuckles came from the audience. Harry's fans were honestly very few, but they were all amazing. Thanks to social media and Harry’s need to communicate with as many people as possible, there was a special bond there. Most people in the room knew from Harry’s instagram that the person talking was Niall, Harry’s best friend, and that he was just messing around. 

“Yes, Niall, I’ll come. Any real questions now?” 

The rest of the time passed by answering his fans’ questions, repeating most of his answers-most people wanted to know the same things —but he did it happily. He liked talking about his book, it was his baby, his first creation. It was all very comfortable for him until one question made Harry pause and rack his brains  for an answer. Well, not an answer, the answer was definite, but he needed to find the proper words to reply. 

“Hi.” The fan was young, no older than 18, and she was holding the book close to her chest. It looked worn out, definitely read more than once. Harry felt a pang of pride, but humility at the same time. “I’m so happy I get to speak to you now.” 

“I’m happy, too. What is your name?” 

“Alicia.” 

“Hi, Alicia, I’m Harry.” 

Alicia smiled, although some people from the audience laughed softly. “I loved the passage you read for us. It’s one of my favorites, if not my most loved.”

Harry didn’t expect that. There were other passages, way more poetic, way better-written. Not that he didn’t agree, there was a reason he chose that passage to read to his audience. “May I ask why?” 

Alicia paused, taken aback by Harry’s question. Logical reaction, no one expects to be asked by the author of the book, who is supposed to be in a specific place to answer questions. “Um, I guess I connected to that part of the story on a personal level.” 

“Oh, I see. Alright, ask away.” 

“Did Jared keep Cyan’s T-shirt? I mean he says he got over him, but I don’t believe it? Sorry if I’m rude.” 

Harry shook his head with a soft smile. “No, no, don’t worry.” Harry didn’t know how to answer the specific question. Although it was about the book, it felt very personal. Answering would mean allowing the audience into a very intimate part of his life. He thought about that shirt, the specific shirt he, himself, had found, the one sitting at the bottom of his drawer. Harry’s eyes caught Matt’s. He knew about Louis, he knew that the book was about Louis. What he didn’t know was that Harry had kept the shirt. And the photos. And all the memories. Visiting the past quite often. Alicia was expecting an answer, like it would determine whether the book was worthy of her admiration, if Harry was worthy. How was he supposed to disappoint her? 

“He kept it,” Harry said softly, almost whispering. He didn’t dare to raise his eyes and look at Matt. 

“But how is that closure?” Alicia asked. “How can you forget the person you loved the most, if you cannot get rid of the memories?” 

Harry wasn’t sure if Alicia’s question had anything to do with the book anymore. The way she shifted her weight uncomfortably and bit her lip made Harry think that she was connecting to the book on a very personal level. 

“Jared didn’t want to forget, the memories were more than welcome. He just wanted to stop being in pain, and in that moment he realized that he wasn’t in pain anymore. That’s what closure was for him. For other people it’s forgetting everything and that’s fine, but for Jared, Cyan would always be part of their life.” 

Harry heard an awkward cough, and he knew it was coming from Matt. Harry wished he could lie, could detach himself from the story, but how could he? How could he do that when Alicia was looking at him with honest, hopeful eyes? He took a breath and carried on. 

“Jared was ready to let go of hope that Cyan would ever be back. As heartbreaking as this is, it’s relieving to move on. It’s actually a good thing.” 

“A good thing? Jared will never find someone like Cyan.” 

Harry tried not to think what that meant. Tried not to make it about himself. Detach. That’s what he had been trying  to do since the moment he finished the story. Detach. If only. 

“He will find someone, and he will be just as good. Jared will be fine, Alicia, don’t worry.” 

Alicia nodded, obviously not convinced. “Thank you.” She sat down and opened her book to write down something. 

Harry didn’t ponder on her question more. He averted his gaze back to his audience and the other raised hands, picking a teenage boy, who thanked him for writing a book that represented the community on a real level. 

He was happy. He was successful. And the t-shirt in the back of his closet didn’t mean anything anymore. 

  
~*~

 

The club was full, the lights blinding, and Harry was most definitely drunk. Barely able to stand, he was leaning against Matt, who had his hands on his hips and his lips on his neck. Harry’s mind was elsewhere, traveling back to blue eyes and a smart mouth he hadn’t seen in a year. It was that girl’s fault. 

They were dancing, if you could even call it that, in the middle of a crowd. The sweat and loud music would be welcome any other time, the nostalgia of a past Harry would make him feel alive, but at that moment Harry felt nauseated,  his brain throbbing against his skull. Matt’s lips felt too hot, his grip too tight. Harry needed something else, someone else. Turning around, he tried to put some distance between himself and Matt, not caring that he stumbled along the way.  

“I’m going to find Niall.” That wasn’t the person he needed, but he was a person who knew him. 

Matt chuckled, amused. “Babe, Niall left like an hour ago with someone.” 

“Oh! Then I’ll go find Liam.” 

“Are you sure you can?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, just go and get me a drink.” 

“Another one?” There was no criticism in his voice, but Harry snapped anyway. 

“I’m an adult. I can handle my alcohol.” Maybe the words slurred together, but Harry knew what he was doing. “Just get me a drink, and we’ll meet at the bar in ten minutes. I’ll even bring Liam.” 

“Maybe he left. Let’s get you home, too.” Matt touched his elbow gently, trying to pull him away from the crowd, but Harry shook him off. 

“I’ll go home after the drink. I need to find Liam.” 

He didn’t wait for Matt to protest and preach him some more. Turning around, he looked through the crowd, determined to find Liam and tell him how much he hated Louis. How he never wanted to see him ever again. How he hated that he could still remember the exact lines of green inside his stupid, perfect, cerulean eyes. Pushing people aside, some of whom cursed at him, drunk and exhausted like he was, he managed to get away from the dance crowd  to the back area, close to the toilets, where he had seen Liam talking with some guy quite some time ago. 

He looked for his friend, but all the faces blended into the same bored, tired one. What was Liam wearing? If he could remember that, he could find Liam. Something black. It was a black sweater, but it was too hot for him to have kept it on. So probably a tank top. His jeans. The sweater tied around his waist. That would be Liam, Harry was sure. He walked along the line of people standing against the wall, some of them making out heavily, some of them just talking. 

It was quite a task, but Harry managed to find Liam. He was still with the same guy from earlier, talking, drinks in hands, now clearly relaxed next to each other. Harry shouldn't interrupt, but right now, he didn’t care. He needed to talk to someone, someone who would understand. 

“Liam!” Harry yelled a little louder than necessary. Liam raised his head and looked at Harry confusedly, but he smiled as soon as his friend walked over to him. “Liam, I need to talk.” 

“I am a bit busy now, H. Can’t it wait?” Liam nodded towards the man, a black-haired boy with a crazy jawline and pretty eyes. Not blue though. 

Harry couldn’t wait. He had to talk to someone, before he went home with Matt. He just had to talk. “I need five minutes.” For some reason his words slurred together, like the thoughts in his head. His mind was chaos, because it’s been a year. A whole year and Harry had a boyfriend now. A real boyfriend, who wanted him, not someone who ran away. “Just five.” He was almost pleading. Liam knew him. They weren’t close, but he knew his face. Harry needed to talk to someone who remembered his face, because he, himself, was starting to forget. Was the colour of his eyes a bright blue or a deeper shade? He had a little green in there, like he had stolen it from Harry’s and took it away with him, leaving Harry’s eyes as empty as his heart.  

“Alright, H. Calm down. Let’s go out for a few moments.” He turned around towards the man. “Excuse me, Z. I have to go.” 

“It’s alright, man. I have your phone number, we’ll talk,” the man replied with an easy smile. 

Liam gave him a half-hug, before he led Harry out of the club. Harry looked around to make sure that Matt wouldn’t follow them. It was terrible that he didn’t want his boyfriend around that moment. He knew that he was being awful, but he needed a moment away. He needed a moment to allow himself to think about him. Talk about him. Remember. He had to remember the colour of his eyes. 

“What’s wrong, H?” Liam asked as soon as they stepped out. There was a group of people smoking right next to the door of the club. Harry walked away from them, Liam in tow. “Harry?” 

“I thought about him again, Li.” Harry didn’t know from where the shaking of his voice came. Or the erratic beating of his heart. 

“Aw, H,” Liam said sympathetically, wrapping Harry in his arms. A warm hug that didn’t mean anything to Harry compared to what he needed. 

“I’m forgetting him,” he whispered. “I can’t remember the colour of his eyes or the distance between the freckles on his cheek. I can’t remember his voice that well. I don’t want to forget him.” 

“You won’t, H.,” Liam rubbed Harry’s arms to warm him up, but Harry could never feel quite warm. It was like a never-ending winter. “You have pictures, right? Your pictures with him. Besides, it’s time to move on. Matt loves you so much.” 

Harry shook his head. “I had moved on, I still am over him. It was that stupid question.” 

“What question?” Liam asked, brows furrowed.

“About the fucking T-shirt. I still have it. I still have his things in a drawer. I haven’t touched them in a year, but they're still there, and I don’t know if they still smell like him. What if the t-shirt doesn’t smell like him anymore?” 

“It’s okay if it doesn’t, though. You have a boyfriend now. He loves you and you love him. That boy is crazy for you.” 

Harry knew that Matt existed; he was part of his life. And there were some genuine feelings from both sides, but love? Harry wasn’t sure he was feeling love for Matt, the way he had felt it in the past. It was like that ability had been stolen away. 

“I’m horrible, aren’t I?” 

“You’re not horrible, H. You’re human. You miss an ex. We all have moments.” 

“Do you miss your ex?” Harry asked. Liam had broken up with his long-term girlfriend just a few months ago. 

Liam lowered his head and looked at the ground. “I miss the feeling of companionship sometimes, but no. Not her so much. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her when we were together, but it’s over and it’s for the best. You get me.” 

“He wasn’t even my boyfriend.” Something inside Harry cracked. Something he had been holding up, since he wrote that first word a year ago, dropped and made him crumble down. Harry leaned on the wall and closed his eyes. “He was everything to me, and I was nothing.” 

Liam didn’t say anything, just stood next to him and draped an arm around his shoulders. There was nothing to be said, because Harry was right. He was still thinking about someone who left him and forgot all about him. He still couldn’t hate him, not really. It'd be easier if he could, but he couldn’t find it in himself to blame Louis and just get over him. It was just a short fling. It should have ended the moment Louis walked out of Harry’s life. God, Louis didn't even give him a proper goodbye or a real explanation. Harry shouldn’t miss him. He shouldn't want him. 

“I need to go home,” Harry whispered. “Alone.” 

“Do you want me to get you in a taxi?” Liam asked. He understood perfectly, always did. “I can make up an excuse for Matt.” 

Harry felt a new wave of guilt and nausea. He shouldn’t feel the need to get away from the man who had been there for him for a year. Like Liam could read his mind, he placed a hand on his shoulder, a hand that felt both heavy and reassuring at the same time. 

“It’s fine if you miss him, Harry. You’re not a bad person for having feelings for someone.” 

“I’m— I’m lying to Matt. I like him, but— I— He’s not Louis.” 

Liam nodded but didn’t comment any further. He slid his hand on Harry’s back and led him towards the line of taxis outside the club. He opened the door of the first one and helped a still intoxicated Harry —he was just realizing how drunk he was— get in and sit comfortably.

“Call me when you get home or at least text me to know you’re safe,” he said, always worrying, always the responsible of the bunch. 

“Please don’t tell Matt about Louis. Please.” Harry knew he was being irrational, Liam would never betray him like that, but he had to be sure that their conversation, Harry’s worries, would stay between the two of them. He was planning to forget them again the next day. He just needed a moment. It was that stupid question, honestly. 

“I won’t, H,” Liam said, closing the door and leaning down to talk to him. “Please don’t beat yourself up over this. You’re a good man, you’re just confused.” He then stood back up and went to the front to give the driver their address. 

Harry relaxed in his seat, rested his head against the window, and watched the cloudy sky moving slowly and steadily past. He couldn't remember the exact hue or shape, but the feeling he had whenever he gazed into those eyes still burned in his gut. 

 

~*~

 

Harry’s hands flew across the keyboard, writing random words that would definitely not fit together. He had enough experience by now to know when a piece of work would be tossed and forgotten, but he had to write, he had to get his thoughts in order and then move on once and for all. That was his plan. Write his true feelings down, the real pain, not the mild sadness he had expressed in his book. Then he would delete it. He would throw Louis’ T-shirt away. He would make an effort to forget, instead of making an effort to remember. 

That was his plan. Yes. Slightly intoxicated still, a bit lost in his own world, he typed and typed, letting every feeling out, nostalgia and ache, bitterness and anger. He wrote every little thing. And then pressed the exit button, planning to delete everything, delete Louis from his life. It was that moment when he got the notification he had a new email waiting for him. He expected it to be his editor, who loved working late and sending him their corrections at odd hours, asking him to get back to her as soon as possible, as if Harry hated sleep. He never would have predicted seeing  _ louiswt@gmail.com. _ His heart jumped inside his chest. 

This had to be a prank. There was no way that Louis would have contacted him now, after all this time. Not the day that Harry couldn’t stop thinking of him, of them together. With a trembling hand, he moved the mouse and double-tapped, opening the message. 

 

_ Dear Harry, _

 

Harry felt bile rising up his throat. If this was a joke, it was a really mean one. 

 

_ It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, but I still often see your face. I’ve been following your career closely and I’m glad you’re doing well. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.  _

 

Harry wanted to scream that he wasn’t doing well at all. He wanted to scream that he was only pretending. He wanted to scream at Louis for daring to even contact him again. 

 

_ I’ve read your book a while ago. Would it be too arrogant to believe it’s about me? I think it would be. But there are a lot of things that make me believe it is and… wow… I’m more than flattered. I’m actually… surprised. I didn’t expect to make an impact in anyone’s life, not enough to have a whole book being written about me. The fact that it is a best seller has nothing to do with my boring self, but it’s a testament of how talented you are. I always knew you must be talented, I’m sorry I didn’t get to see it before the rest of the world, although I didn’t exactly have the right, did I?  _

 

Harry felt the tears scarring his skin. He shouldn’t cry, but since Louis came in his life, he found it hard to stop. But Louis was no one to him anymore. He should delete this message. He should have never opened it. He was making one mistake after the other, caught in  a whirlwind of bad decisions. But he had to know. He kept reading like the masochist he was. 

 

_ I saw your interview today. Someone posted a video on Insta. I like the new hair, by the way. Still very you. I miss the long curls, but you still look as amazing as they day I left you.  _

 

Harry looked away, tears blurring his vision, heartbeat ringing in his ears. He couldn't bear to read another word. He slammed the laptop shut, barely refraining from throwing it out the window, and stood abruptly, almost knocking  the chair over with the force of his movement. He couldn’t do this to himself anymore. It was over for him. It had to be. He dragged himself over to his bed, throwing himself on it, and stared at the ceiling as tears soaked his pillow. It had to be over now.  


	8. Chapter 8

The morning sun was less than welcome on Harry’s eyes, only compounding his hangover headache, making him dizzy before he'd had a chance to properly wake up. First came the nausea, then came the memories of last night. Harry had behaved like a complete moron. He had let that question ruin his perfectly good night, he had left Matt by himself at the club, and then that email. Louis had a knack for messing with Harry’s brain with just a few words, didn’t he? 

He stood up, ignoring how his insides churned, and sat on the bed facing the window. The sky was gray, like it was about to rain. Harry grabbed the spare blanket from the bottom of the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders, then gathered his laptop from his desk and made his way to the kitchen. Neither Niall nor Liam were awake yet, or maybe they hadn't made it  home at all. He carefully placed the laptop on the counter, before he turned the coffee pot on. 

Rubbing the sleep from his face, he formed a plan in his head. Delete the email, block the address, delete everything he had ever written about him but kept private, throw out that old T-shirt and the rest of his things, and then call Matt to apologize in order to carry on his life with him. Simple and effective, he had to cut Louis from his life completely. He poured a cup of coffee and took it with him to the kitchen island, sitting down with a heavy heart and tensed shoulders. He needed that weight off of him; it was time. 

The email was the first thing he saw when he opened his laptop, still there from last night, when Harry didn’t bother closing the tab before he went to bed. He wasn’t planning to read the entire thing, it didn’t matter anyway, but one word derailed all his thoughts and plans. 

_ Regret _ . 

 

_ I regret the day I left you. I regret everything I said and everything I didn’t say. I know it doesn’t mean much. I know you’ve moved on, I saw the guy on your Insta. He’s cute and he seems nice. I hope he treats you the way you deserve, because you deserve the best, Haz.  _

 

Harry stopped reading for a moment, taking a large gulp of hot coffee that burned his throat, but he didn’t care. It made him feel warm, and he needed that more than anything at the moment. He needed to feel human again. 

 

_ I don’t know why I am sending this to you. I don’t want to upset you. I just want you to know that I never forgot about you. You are an important person, Harry Styles, and you made an impact in so many lives with your words, including mine.  _

_ Yours truly, _

_ Louis.  _

 

He stared at the words wishing they would change, spell something different. Words of arrogance and self-entitlement. But nothing changed. It was still the same kind words that he read the first time. Unfair. It was so fucking unfair, how Louis woke up one day and decided to come back to Harry’s life saying everything that Harry had craved so long to get from him. Selfish and unfair. 

In a moment of weakness or maybe of great bravery, Harry hit reply and started typing with fast fingers. Every word leached all the frustration and hurt he'd carried inside him for a year and then some. He fantasized about Louis receiving that email, how his face would be. Would he cry like he'd made Harry cry? Would he feel broken? 

Harry sighed and shook his head. He stopped typing and stared at the screen. This didn’t feel right. The idea of hurting Louis didn’t sit right with him, not even after all the pain he experienced the whole time he had been away. Thinking of Louis crying physically hurt him, made his stomach burn. He deleted everything he had written and started over. 

 

_ Dear Louis, _

_ I was surprised to get your email. I didn’t know you were following my career. I hope you enjoyed my book and you’re having fun in Greece, if you are still there.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Harry.  _

 

Harry closed his laptop and finished his coffee quickly before making his way to the bathroom. Maybe  a shower could make him feel human again. He didn’t plan to think about Louis or the emails until it was time to face his inbox again. 

  
~*~

 

_ The shirt _ . 

Harry remembered about the stupid shirt as he got out of the shower. Not bothering with drying his hair, he wrapped himself in his bathrobe and ran to find his laptop. Had Louis mentioned anything about the shirt? He said he saw the interview. Fuck. Did Louis now know that Harry had kept the shirt and all of his other things? Did Louis think Harry was a weirdo who was still obsessed with him? Because he wasn’t— he definitely was over him. The hot shower helped him realize what his true feelings were and he was completely over Louis. 

He should have expected to find Niall and Liam there, but he was still taken by surprise when he saw them serving some kind of delivery food that smelled delicious. 

“Hey, H,” Liam said as he noticed Harry walking in the kitchen. “Got Thai, want some?” 

Harry shook his head. He was still kind of panicking about the shirt and the last thing he needed was food. Or maybe that was exactly what his hungover body needed, but he found it impossible to force anything down his throat at the moment. 

“Not feeling well yet?” Liam asked, worried.  He approached Harry, still holding one of the takeout boxes. The smell made Harry’s stomach clench, he was so hungry. “Come on, H. Some food will do you good.” 

“I— I just need my laptop for a moment.” 

“You work way too much, you know?” Niall said, opening the cupboard to get three plates. “Have lunch with us and then you can do whatever you need to do.” 

“It’s not work related, I just need to check an email. I’ll do it as you serve food.” 

“H, man, relax,” Liam placed a hand on Harry’s back, leading him towards one of the stools. “Sit down, eat something, and you’ll do whatever you have to do later.”

Harry had no choice but to do as Liam said; he wasn’t in the mood to fight him. Besides, Louis hadn’t mentioned the shirt, had he? Harry was overreacting as always. Yes, that was it. Besides, his email back to Louis was completely casual— no one could tell what Harry was thinking the previous night. And no one would ever find out. Well, apart from Liam who already knew. Oh, no. That made it real. He couldn’t pretend he never thought about Louis, because he went and talked to Liam. Fuck alcohol, fuck that question, and fuck Louis for emailing him. 

A plate full of various starters and some stir-fry was placed in front of him. “Eat,” Niall instructed him, shoving a fork in his hand. Harry gaped at him for a moment, before Niall nodded towards the plate to encourage him to take a bite. “Come on, man, you’ll feel better after you have some food.” 

Harry took a scoop of his rice, albeit a little unwillingly, and ate it slowly, savouring the admittedly great taste. Liam and Niall joined him around the kitchen island with their own plates in hand. Silence during lunch or dinner wasn’t unusual, especially on a hungover day, but all of Harry’s thoughts were suffocating him. 

“Louis emailed me,” he burst out, trying to sound casual, but even he could hear the frantic tone in his voice. 

Liam and Niall dropped their forks on their plates, sharing a look between them. Harry hated it when they did that. Especially when it involved Harry’s life. Harry kept eating but he could now feel his friends’ eyes on him.  

“What— what did he say?” Liam asked warily. 

Harry used the long pause to think of what he wanted to share out of the entire email. Louis’ words seemed more like a confession, not a clear apology or an explanation, but a confession of his feelings for Harry back in the day. Harry wasn’t sure he was ready to share that with anyone, not even his best friends. He didn’t think he would ever be ready. 

“He— um… He said that he learned about the book and he congratulated me. I guess that’s all.” 

Niall narrowed his eyes, shoulders tensing protectively. Niall had never openly expressed his dislike for Louis, he had always been fond of the man, but he certainly didn’t appear friendly at that moment. “For real? He contacts you after months—”

“A year,” Harry whispered.

“A year!” Niall exclaimed as if personally offended. “A year, and he sent an email to congratulate you... and that’s it?” 

Harry let his fork fall on the plate. He wasn’t sure if he could get any real advice if he wasn’t being honest with his friends. He was afraid they would judge him, but then again Liam hadn’t said anything the previous night. “He said some other stuff, I guess. I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, almost forgetting he had chopped his curls off months ago. Sometimes he missed his long hair; playing with it was a nice stress-relief. 

“What stuff?” Liam asked, way more gentle than Niall. 

“Look, I don’t remember the whole thing by heart. It was just— It was nice, I guess.” 

There was another long pause, one that made many thoughts creep up onto him. He wasn’t sure what he was even doing, what was happening. He had answered Louis, and then what? Was that it? Was that cold, impersonal answer the last interaction Harry and Louis would have? 

“What are you planning to do?” Niall asked. 

“I— I already answered him.” 

“You did?” Liam gasped, quickly schooling his expression to hide his shock. 

“It was just a plain, polite reply,” Harry tried to excuse himself. He had cracked, and it wasn’t a surprise Liam had that tone towards him after Harry's earlier confession. “I promise.” 

“I mean,” Niall shrugged a shoulder, “you don’t have to explain yourself to us, H. If it felt right, then it’s good you did it.” 

“It—” Harry shook his head, getting up to get his laptop from the counter where one of his friends had put it. He needed to reread Louis’ email and then reread his answer and fuck! He hated how he was already in that state of mind. He hated how much he still cared. “It didn’t feel right, but also it didn’t feel wrong,” he sighed, returning to his seat with his laptop under his arm. “It was honestly a weak moment.” 

“Are you sure? Because last night—” Liam stopped himself, looking at Harry with uncertainty.

“I was drunk, Liam. You can’t really believe—” 

“I don’t believe anything,” Liam rushed to clarify, raising his hands defensively. “I am just reminding you what happened. No one is mad at you, if you’re not over Louis.” 

“Wait, what?” Niall gasped. “You’re still in lo—” 

“No, I’m not!” Harry pushed himself up, taking a few steps away from his friends. He hated this conversation. He hated for making him rethink everything. “I can’t be in love. I've been dating Matt for a year! How the fuck am I supposed to tell him that I wasted both of our times because I’m still chasing someone who isn’t even fucking here!” 

Harry realized he had been screaming. His eyes burned with the desire to lie under his blanket and cry all the frustration away. But no, he refused to cry about Louis. He took a deep breath, and another one, calming himself. He reached for his hair, smoothing the curls back. 

“I fucked up,” he said, making his way and plopping down to the couch. 

Niall and Liam rushed to his sides; Liam wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in a tight hug. “You didn’t fuck up. Harry, relationships are hard. Sometimes you might have feelings for more than one person, you know? That shit is complicated.” 

“I don’t have feelings for Louis… I don’t think so,” Harry said, not sure if he meant it or if he was just trying to convince himself. “But yesterday, that question and then the email, they made me realize that maybe I am not in love with Matt.” Niall hummed sympathetically and scooted closer, and Liam tightened his hug. “He’s a great guy, a good friend and companion, but I am not in love. I can’t do this to either of us.” 

Niall put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Are you going to break up with him?” 

The idea hadn’t even crossed Harry’s mind until that moment, but suddenly it seemed like the only logical choice. He couldn’t keep stringing Matt along with the hopes he’d fall in love with him eventually, especially since the thought of breaking up with him brought him relief. That would be one tough conversation to have. There was virtually no problem between them— Matt had no idea— and Harry had to break his heart suddenly. And all because he was stupid and couldn’t get over himself, really. 

“I... I think I should.”  

“Whatever you decide to do,” Liam said, “we will support you, H. You’re not a bad person, you’re just confused, you know that.” 

Harry found it hard to believe Liam’s words, because he felt like the worst human in the whole world. He wasn’t ready to discuss that yet, though. He first had to end his relationship with Matt, and then sit down and collect his thoughts, figure out what he was really feeling and what he truly wanted. He stayed between his friends’ comforting arms for a little while longer, until they all had to get up and move on with their days. 

  
~*~

 

Not loving Matt felt like one of Harry's  biggest failures. 

Harry was sitting across from him —they were having dinner at his place— waiting for a reaction to his words. Harry had tried to explain the situation as best he could, hoping he wasn’t being hurtful, but the lack of any reaction from Matt wasn’t really helping him read the moment. Harry would much prefer to be yelled at than the silence he was facing. 

“I don’t want to tell you the cliché line about how it’s not you, it’s me, and all that, but that’s literally what it is,” Harry said after he told Matt they couldn’t date anymore. Matt kept staring at him, completely silent, not a hint of anger or disappointment in his face. “You’re a perfect boyfriend,” Harry continued, “thoughtful and nice, so don’t think I wasn’t happy with you.” 

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed; finally there was some emotion showing. He shook his head, then took a sip of his wine. All his movements were slow as if he were thinking them through, but it drove Harry crazy. “Then why are we breaking up?” 

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to just come out and say he didn’t love Matt, mainly because he had said he did, when he thought it was true. However, he didn’t want to lie to him. Not anymore. He reached for Matt’s hand resting on the table between them. “I don’t know if you’ll hate me after I say this, I won’t blame you, but, please, try to understand where I’m coming from.” Matt nodded, taking Harry’s hand in his encouraging him to keep talking. “When we met I was a mess, and you helped me so much. You were someone who cared, someone nice, funny, and you offered me affection, when i needed it the most. I guess, where I went wrong is that I mistook my appreciation towards you with love.” 

“So you’re not in love with me anymore, that’s what you’re trying to say.” 

“Isn’t it unfair to tell you I am, if I’m not? Don’t you want a boyfriend who loves you?” 

Matt sat back, staring right through Harry. They were still holding hands, and it was somewhat comforting. They stayed there for a while. Harry didn’t want to be the first one to pull away and ruin the moment; his guilt was already torturing him. 

“I thought you were over him,” Matt muttered softly. Harry felt his grip slipping away. “It’s Louis, isn’t it?” 

Harry lowered his eyes. “Yes and no.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m not in love with him anymore, I don’t think so.” 

Harry couldn’t find a reason to tell him about the emails; they were nothing but innocent. Besides, Louis never replied. Harry had checked every day, and after four days there was still nothing. Maybe Louis had gotten discouraged after Harry’s dismissing email, or maybe he just had nothing to say anymore. Maybe this was the closure Harry had been waiting for. It didn’t feel like it, though, not when old wounds were reopened, pouring memories and doubts. 

“Please, explain,” Matt implored him, already sounding defeated. Harry hated being the bad guy; it turned out this side was heartbreaking, too. He had never had to deal with a breakup like this before. He was usually the one getting dumped and, boy, it sucked being the one doing it. 

“I’m not in love with him anymore. There’s no one to love anymore anyway; he’s not here. But I have the memories and— I don’t know how to say this, Matt, I don’t want to be an asshole and I am so sorry for hurting you—”

“Hey, hey,” Matt rushed to comfort him. His face and voice became soft, as he let go of Harry’s hand and reached out to rub his arm. “It’s fine, we’re friends above everything, right? It sucks, Harry, I won’t lie. I didn’t expect this; we’ve been together for almost a year. But I want to understand. You’re not in love with him, yet somehow you decide you don’t love me because of him?” 

“When I remember how I felt with him—” Harry sighed, defeated. He suddenly needed ten hours of sleep and twenty days of isolation. “I don’t feel it when we’re— I love you. I’m just not in love with you.” 

Matt nodded his head slowly, taking it all in. The words were cruel. Harry didn’t know if he could ever bear to listen to them, and the fact they left his own mouth made him sick. But he didn’t want to lie to Matt; he deserved to know the whole truth so he didn’t have any doubts about himself. Harry was the asshole in this case, no one else. 

“Well,” Matt huffed out, “I can’t force you to love me.” 

The bitterness in his voice felt like a knife in Harry’s chest, but he knew he had no right getting offended by Matt’s reaction. He let him be, wondering if he should leave him alone, or it would be barbaric to get up and leave two seconds after he broke up with him. 

So Harry just sat there, staring across at Matt ignoring him as he dealt with his emotions in silence for two hours, before they finally said a soft goodbye. Harry didn’t want it to be forever, he wanted Matt in his life as a friend, he was used to his happiness and kind words, but he wasn’t selfish enough to ask that of him. 

He looked at Matt for the last time before he walked out the door and that was it. 

  
~*~

 

He should have expected to get an email from Louis the same night he broke up with his boyfriend. Harry didn’t really believe in fate, but he would be lying if he didn’t think the universe was working against him. 

His first instinct was to ignore the email, maybe delete it and just try to move on. But the last time he tried to do that, he ended up with a long-term boyfriend he didn’t love and whose heart Harry broke. After taking a quick shower and getting comfortable in his bed —happy that Liam and Niall were both already in bed and he didn’t have to deal with their questions right away— he placed his laptop in front of him and started reading, warm chamomile tea in one hand and heart pounding fast. 

 

_ Dear Harry, _

 

_ I just read your email. I was afraid to face your reply or the lack of it. Thank you for being polite and kind towards me. I never expected anything else, but it was a relief nevertheless.  _

_ I’m not currently in Greece. I spent three months there before I returned to the UK. I came to meet with my family again.  _

 

Harry gasped loudly. He left the mug he was holding on the bedside table and focused on the email, eager to read the update on Louis’ life. As much as that boy hurt him by leaving him like that, he couldn’t but worry about him and what he found when he returned home.  He kept reading Louis’ words, ignoring the shivers that spread all over his body. 

 

_ I saw my mum again. And my sisters. Everything has changed here. My mum got a divorce and remarried, she had twins with her new husband. I have two new siblings, can you imagine? Her new husband is a lovely guy, by the way, and he loves my sisters and my mum a lot.  _

_ Finding out the pain I caused to my mother was one of the worst things I have ever lived through. She tried to search for me after I left, but my father did everything he could to prevent her. That was the reason for their divorce apparently. I hurt her, Harry. Like I hurt you. Like I hurt everyone. I came back to my mother to wrong the rights, take a chance. I didn’t know if I’d find support, but I did. She took care of me, when I needed a hug the most.  _

_ But I am not happy. I need to apologise for everything I did to you. I need to explain why I did what I did. There are so many things left unsaid. Things that cannot be discussed via email. Or text or facetime. Things I have to tell you.  _

 

Harry swallowed down the lump in his throat. It was a mix of pride and happiness for Louis’ bravery to go back to his family, finding everything he needed there. It was the selfish satisfaction of knowing that he was important enough to Louis that he couldn’t find happiness without apologising to him. It made all the pain worth it. Or at least not a waste. 

 

_ So I am coming back.  _

 

“What?” Harry asked his screen, as if it would explain what he was reading. Wait, what? 

 

_ I need to see you, explain, and apologise properly. This isn’t me trying to mess with your life. Don’t worry. I know you are happy now. You don’t even have to accept to see me. Say the word and I’ll leave you alone. But I have to try, I have to see you and correct my mistake. Well, that’s impossible, I guess. I need to apologise for that mistake and I need the moment to have a meaning.  _

_ I hope I’ll get to meet you again soon.  _

 

_ Yours truly,  _

_ Louis.  _

 

Harry sat back, unable to believe the words he was reading. Louis was coming back just to apologise. Louis was leaving his family, whom he hadn’t seen in years, just to meet Harry for an apology. He closed his eyes, trying to take everything in. Too much. As always, Louis was too much, leaving Harry unable to breathe properly, but feeling the familiar warmth he had missed for so long spread through his body like a childhood blanket that kept him safe. 

Harry would see Louis again. 

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Harry kept checking his phone for days waiting for a text or a phone call. He hadn’t changed his number, so unless Louis had deleted it, there was no reason for him to not contact him there. After Louis’ email, Harry’s emotions were mixed, unsure whether he wanted to see him again, if he was ready, but also curious. His fingers had felt detached as he had typed a short answer telling Louis he’d love to meet him for a cup of coffee. He was maybe trying too hard to act casual, since he hadn’t calmed down yet.

And on top of everything, he had no one to go to for advice. He still hadn’t said anything to Niall and Liam in fear that they would judge him for letting Louis to come back into his life. If he was honest, there was a part of him that was afraid that Louis might never come, and he didn’t want to feel humiliated again. So he kept this to himself, just waiting for the phone call or text.

Meanwhile, he was supposed to be working on his second book. Now that he had quit his day job, the pressure was really high. He was freelancing opinion pieces for a magazine, but that was barely enough to cover food and some bills, and his savings from his first book deal was earmarked for rent and running out. He had tried pretty much everything to get some inspiration. Complete silence and inspiring music. Staying hauled up in his room and taking his laptop to the little cafes around the block. Nothing helped. The pages stayed blank, and his heart was sinking. Had his success been a one-time thing? Was his inspiration drained when Louis left? 

In-between waiting for Louis and waiting for divine inspiration to come, Harry lost track of time. He was just functioning; wake up, eat, try to write, fail, go to bed, and repeat was his main routine for a while. He knew that Niall and Liam had noticed, and they had even tried to approach him, but he acted as if everything was fine, and just waited for that damn message to liberate him from the limbo. He waited and waited until  finally, he got four simple words from an unknown number. 

 

**I’m in NY.**

 

He had never felt such conflicted emotions of excitement and fear. He wasn’t ready to face Louis, but at the same time the prospect of seeing his face again made his heart burst. He wondered if Louis had changed. Had he put on some weight? Was his hair still blond? Had he gotten more tattoos? A year was a long time, but it was also nothing. 

He quickly typed his reply, double-checking for any mistakes, and pressed send. 

 

**H: I’d like to meet. Tell me when you’re free.**

 

He shouldn’t be biting his nails, but he couldn’t stop. His insides clenched as he waited for the answer. 

 

**L: Always free. Time & place? **

**H: Today, around 7pm, cafe??**

 

Harry couldn’t think of a better place to try to get closure. He was poetic like that sometimes. 

 

**L: Sounds perfect.**

**H: See you.**

**L: See you.**

  
~*~

 

The hours passed slowly until Harry got up from his bed and started getting ready. He wanted to be effortless with his appearance, yet look nice. He picked a pair of light jeans, a simple red sweater, and a pair of Vans, putting his old black coat on top. He properly shaved after days of soft scruff, and opted for glasses instead of his contacts. Giving a quick glance to himself in the mirror, he decided he looked pretty good  and not much different than the man Louis had met a while ago. Only the hair was different. 

He left home a little later than he should have, but trying to get away from Niall’s and Liam’s inquisition —especially after his break-up— wasn’t an easy task. 

“Hey, gorgeous, where are you going?” Liam had asked from where he was sitting on the couch, as Harry made his way out the room. 

“What?” 

“You look nice,” Niall had said. 

“Hot. Got a date?” 

Harry had rolled his eyes, knowing damn well he was blushing like crazy, but he pretended everything was normal. “Yes, Liam. I cannot look good unless I have a date with someone. Seriously, you two have lost your minds. I have to go meet a friend, and I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

“Okay, H. I’m gonna make dinner tonight. Will you eat here?” 

Harry had busied himself wrapping a scarf around his neck, not knowing what to answer. He didn’t know how long his conversation with Louis would take, whether they would end up having dinner together, or if the whole thing would turn out to be an awkward disaster. His hope was for the former, but he feared the latter was a strong possibility. 

“I don’t know, Li,” Harry had replied honestly. “I’ll pick up something on my way, if I don’t eat out. Thanks, though.” 

“As you wish.” 

They had both stared at him, as he gathered his wallet and keys and made his way out of the apartment, waving goodbye. He hated lying to them, even if it wasn’t technically a lie. He just wasn’t ready to tell them about Louis coming back. After this conversation, it wouldn’t matter anyway. Louis had come to explain, and Harry was sure he’d go back to his family again soon. It was better to avoid the worrying looks and pity talks. 

He walked to the cafe instead of taking a cab or the bus, although that guaranteed he’d be a little late. He was hoping Louis would wait. He just needed more time to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t decided what he’d say to him. He was afraid of his own reaction to seeing Louis’ face. One thing was for sure, he didn’t want to cry, even if he already felt like it. 

The big clock on the wall read 7:13, when Harry walked into the familiar cozy place. Jin was behind the counter making drinks for tired students searching for a quick pick-me-up before their long nights of studying. It was as if nothing had changed in there, as Harry’s life moved on. Nothing, but the man sitting in one of the secluded tables, next to the window. His posture revealed his nerves, as he pushed his short fringe away from his face; the blond strands of hair were gone and replaced with shaved sides. He looked good. A little thinner, but his shaved face was fresh, well-rested. Harry hesitated for a moment, unsure of what his first words should be. 

_ I missed you _ . 

He walked up to him, trying to control his trembling hands. Their eyes met halfway, surprise and nostalgia and sadness and happiness, everything was there. Was it appropriate to go for a hug? They hadn’t separated on bad terms exactly. They didn’t have a chance to have a fallout the way Louis left in the dark. Louis made the decision for him, getting up and offering his hand. Harry took it, a spark igniting fire inside his veins. It still felt wrong. Too little. 

“Harry.” His voice was almost a raspy whisper. 

Harry swallowed down the lump in his throat. All those emotions were unwanted, too distracting, but they weren’t a surprise. “Hi,” he said to him, taking a deep breath. “You— your hair, it’s nice.” 

“Thanks.” Louis brushed his fringe with his fingers, giving Harry a tight smile. “Kinda needed a change. You cut yours.” 

“Needed the change, too.” 

They stood there, holding hands, for a little while longer. Harry wasn’t ready to let go. Louis didn’t seem eager to do so either. 

Louis broke the silence first. “Can I get you something?” he nodded towards the counter. 

“I’ll get some coffee myself, I want to say hi to Jin. Can I get you a refill?” 

“No, I’m still drinking this. Thank you.” 

Harry left Louis to sit back in his seat and made his way to the line, which wasn’t that big thankfully. As soon as Jin saw him in front of her, she grinned, barely containing her shriek. 

“Harry! It’s been so long. How are you, honey?” 

“I’m fine. How are you? Busy?” 

“A bit! We’ve all missed you here. You gotta visit more often.” 

“I will, I promise. I’m sorry I’ve been so terrible.” 

“It’s fine.” She opened her marker and waited for Harry’s order. “What do you want, sweetheart?” 

“The usual.” 

Harry paid and then waited on the side for the new barista to make his drink. Unfortunately, he couldn’t talk with Jin, since it was a busy hour, but he made a mental note to call and meet with her soon. As he waited, he couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at Louis. He was sitting with his back turned to him, and he was on his phone. He was there. The same boy that came, ruined him, and then left, had come back. Harry never thought he’d see him again, yet there he was. Beautiful in all his glory. A part of Harry was scared he would fall for him again, his natural charm, but then again he was a big boy. He could control his emotions, right? Right? 

His drink was ready quite quickly, and he grabbed it, throwing a polite “thank you” before returning to the table. Louis put his phone in his pocket, smiling at Harry. Now that Harry had a chance to observe him without the initial thrill clouding his judgement, he could see that Louis looked pretty much the same —save for the hair— yet there was something different about him. A sense of calm energy as his eyes bore into Harry’s. 

“So? How long have you been here?” Harry broke the awkward silence first. 

“Got here a couple days ago, I suppose. I needed some time to get over my jet lag, which I didn’t, and gather my thoughts, which I hopefully did.” 

“Oh, you have a room somewhere close?” 

“Got a sweet little flat, yes. It’s not big or anything. I can barely support myself with Gabi’s salary, but she was so sweet to rehire me without a second thought. And I guess if I find a second job before my savings run out, I—” 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, confused. Louis had returned home, hadn’t he? He had found his family again; he was only there to apologize and move on. That’s what he told Harry anyway. 

“Donny is nice, but it’s not where I belong,” Louis shrugged his shoulders, hiding himself behind a big sip of his coffee. “I guess I moved back to the place that I felt the most comfortable.” 

“You’re staying here?” 

Louis let a smile paint his face; it was small and private. 

Harry gaped at him, feeling lost. 

Louis’ smile widened. “That’s the plan. No more running away. There’s nothing to run from anymore. My past is settled. Almost.” 

Harry was even more confused now. This didn’t make any sense. Louis coming back for good. “What about your family, I thought— I thought everything went well.” 

Louis’ smile didn’t disappear; it became fonder, as if the mere mention of his family was enough to make his heart melt. “My family supports my decision. Yes, my mum protested this a little bit, but since my sister is planning to move here in a few months, I think it was easier to accept it. They won’t lose me again. I am done running away.” 

“But— I don’t understand what you’re doing here. Why?” 

“First of all, I need to apologize properly. Harry, when I left, I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to protect your feelings. And maybe I wanted to protect myself a little bit. I thought you’d move on, I didn’t—” Louis cleared his throat. “Anyway, I read your book.” 

Harry heart sunk inside his chest, feeling his cheeks hot with embarrassment. He had written things in that book never expecting Louis would read it or actually come back. He had revealed all his deep thoughts and emotions. All the hurt. All the pain. Seeing a serene, calm Louis in front of him made him realise now how big of a mess he had been all along. Had he ever even felt better or had he been fooling himself all along? 

“I don’t know if you were just inspired or if those were your real feelings, but Harry… I— I am sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I am sorry I hurt you so much.” 

Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s all he wanted, an apology. He should feel complete now, ready to finally move on. He had even gotten an explanation. Why couldn’t he now thank Louis, get up, and leave? Why did he stay there staring at the man’s face as if he would disappear at any moment? 

“I don’t know what to say, Louis.” 

“You don’t have to say anything. I am not here to upset you. I know you’ve moved on, I know you have found someone who probably treats you better than I ever could. I am happy for you.” 

Maybe Harry should tell him that Matt was in the past, that he didn’t help him much to forget and move on. But then again he was at loss of words; he never expected to be sitting right across from Louis again. 

“I would love to be friends with you,” Louis continued, “I know we never really were just friends, but you— Harry, you are important to me. I want you to know. And I’d love to have you back in my life as a friend.” 

_ As a friend _ . He didn’t know how to be just friends with Louis. Not with all his thoughts the past weeks. It never quite worked like that between them. But on the other hand, in his mind, he had already accepted the offer. Eager to have Louis in his life again. 

“If I am overstepping—” 

“It’s not that,” Harry rushed to reassure him. “I just— why, Louis?” 

Louis lowered his eyes for the first time, a frown clouding his sweet face. “I told you I want to make things right.” 

“You apologised. And I accept your apology with all my heart,” Harry said. He wanted to reach out and touch again, comfort him, reassure him. But he was still weary. “But I don’t understand why you gave up your family, security, your home, to come here and be friends with me.” 

Louis licked his lips, still avoiding Harry’s gaze. “I don’t think— I’m going to sound so selfish now, maybe I am, but I don’t think I can live without you in my life.” 

Time stopped and Harry lost himself in those words. 

“I lost my chance with you, I was dumb and stupid and scared of my own feelings. But I honestly feel I should try, do something, to get you back into my life. We don’t have to date. You’ve moved on, and I respect that. I will support your relationship with your boyfriend. But Harry, I want to be your friend, be there for you.” 

“We broke up,” Harry whispered, trying to take in all this honesty. His eyes burned with the desire to cry and let out everything he had been holding inside him for weeks. Or was it a year? The thought that he had never quite moved on was now the only one inside his brain. Louis had come back with the intention to fix things but Harry was already feeling ruined.  

“Oh,” Louis looked up surprised. “I— I’m sorry. Did I cause—” 

“No,” Harry shook his head. “It was between him and me, nothing to do with you. I didn’t even know you were coming back, when it happened.”  

They stared at each other for a moment. Harry tried to read Louis, hoping that he had let his guard down, that Harry finally could figure him out, but Louis kept looking back at him with a soft smile. Harry didn’t miss the trembling of his hands though. 

“That doesn’t change my intentions, Harry. I am here offering myself as whatever you want to have me.” 

“That’s different from saying you want to be my friend, Lou.” 

“I know. But it’s not up to me, love. I came back hoping you can forgive me and you will let me be your friend. That’s all I ask.” 

Harry sat back, considering getting up and leaving. It was unfair. Harry didn’t want to decide anything. He didn’t want to be the one who would either break or make them. It was obvious that Louis was there with a passive stance, ready to accept whatever decision Harry made. But Harry didn’t know what he wanted. His heart wanted to let Louis back into his life. But he was so scared. What if Louis just got up and left again? How would Harry be able to get over that when he had barely moved on from their shared past? 

“You don’t have to decide now, Haz,” Louis whispered, reaching out and placing his hand on Harry’s. They never quite fit, Harry’s hand was always too big for Louis’ fingers, yet somehow Louis had a way to make it work. He did it then, turning Harry’s hand and entwining their fingers. “I’ll be here, I won’t go. Take your time and decide whatever makes you happy. That’s all I want for you.” 

“I thought being back in each other’s lives was what you wanted,” Harry whispered, unable to take his eyes away from Louis’ hand touching his. 

“Not at the expense of your happiness, Haz. I think you need some time to decide what’s best for you. I’ll keep my distance but you have my phone number. I will—” 

“We can try!” Harry rushed to say. The possibility of losing Louis right after he came back made his chest feel tight. He knew that the possibility of not seeing him again would lead  to one decision only: accept Louis back. He was so stupid; he knew that this could lead to both getting hurt. Harry more so than Louis. “I think— I can’t not at least try. I don’t know how it will be, being friends with you.” 

Louis sat back, without taking his hand away. “Sounds reasonable.” 

“So we’re doing this? We’re going to try to be friends?” This must had been a dream, one that Harry never dared to allow himself. All the doubts were already suffocating him, but they were nothing compared to the warm feeling inside his belly as Louis smiled back to him. 

“Yes, we’re friends.” 

Harry took a deep breath. He may have made the worst mistake of his life. 

  
~*~

 

First, Harry had to explain everything to Niall and Liam, knowing that hiding the truth would be impossible, and quite frankly, Harry wasn’t interested in going behind their backs. They had stood by his side and supported him all along; they deserved to be included in this decision as well. Even if Harry was the one who would make the final calls. 

When he returned from the café, he found them both in the same spot he had left them, piles of junk food all around them, although they were focused on the TV. Harry closed the door, startling them both, before he made his way next to Liam, in need for a warm cuddle. Liam was the best at giving hugs. Harry snuggled close to Liam, who looked worriedly at Niall before he opened his arms and hugged Harry. 

“Hey, H. How are you, hon?” 

“I met with Louis.” 

There was no reason to beat around the bush. He expected Liam’s gasp and Niall’s shrieked “What!” He had expected worse. But then again, he had the loveliest friends; they’d never been overly judgemental. 

“When?” Liam asked, pulling away to look at Harry. “How?” 

“He’s in New York,” Harry explained. “We— um— we kinda kept in contact, and he told me he wanted to meet to apologise.” 

“Oh, wow,” Niall sighed, mouth gaping. 

He couldn’t blame them. He hadn’t given them a warning and with everything that happened since that night at the club, it must have been a bit too much to take in. Harry knew. 

“He really came just to apologise or…”

“He came back to stay.” Saying it out loud made shivers run down his body. “He said that he wants to be friends, anything really, he just wants to be part of my life again.” 

“No!” Niall said, sitting up. “No, he can’t come back and demand—” 

“He didn’t demand anything, Ni. He came and offered his friendship. It’s up to me to decide.” 

Niall didn’t seem to be assured by that. 

Liam coughed, letting Harry go completely and turning him around to look at him. “Have you decided what to do?” 

He wasn’t sure if he was fooling himself when he muttered, “No.” The prospect of Louis coming back had been a far-fetched dream, but Louis somehow made it a reality. He was there, offering himself on Harry’s terms, and Harry doubted he would be able to stay away. Louis had always had that special little something the drew people. Harry forever admired that. Maybe he was a little jealous, too. Harry was always called a charmer, for some reason he couldn’t really see, but Louis was… he was memorable. 

“Good, because he doesn’t deserve you,” Niall said, taking Harry by surprise.

“I thought you liked him.” 

“Well, I like you more. I kept my mouth shut, because it was so obvious that you still respected him after he was gone, in the middle of the night, if I may add, but, Harry, honestly, I don’t think you remember how you were because of him.” 

“Wait, Niall, relax,” Liam said, taking Harry in his arms again. 

He was so thankful for Liam’s calm reactions sometimes. Always sensible, always ready to weigh both sides before he makes up his mind. Harry wished he was a bit like Liam, too. 

“Harry said he didn’t decide. Besides, we don’t know what Louis said to him.” 

“He—” Harry coughed, relaxing against Liam’s shoulder. “He apologised. Again. He explained a little bit. Um, we talked, but he mostly explained why he came back.” 

“Well, why?” Niall asked, obviously not convinced.  

“He said that he doesn’t— um— he doesn’t feel the same without me? I don’t know, Niall, he said a lot of things. And I don’t know why, but I believe him. Louis cannot lie to save his life. He seemed so sure, so calm. He knows what he wants. I guess I am the only one who doesn’t.” 

Niall’s shoulders relaxed a little bit at that, but the tension between his brows didn’t disappear. Harry loved Niall for being protective, but it also made him feel that agreeing to try to be friends with Louis was a big mistake. He was so torn and so unsure, because what if he let old and new feelings dictate his decision and he was making the wrong one? What if he ended up a mess again? How would he pull himself out of that misery? 

“H, we said this before. It’s alright to be confused. And, you know, Niall might disagree with this, but it’s also alright to forgive Louis. If that’s what your heart wants, then do it. Don’t torture yourself with the past. Let it go.” 

“I have already forgiven him, Li. But I just don’t know if agreeing to let him back into my life was wise. I just— I have this choice to make, it’s all up to me, no one else has control over this, and it’s all I wanted, the ability to make a choice, but now that I have it, I don’t know what to do with it.” Harry lowered his eyes, staring at his hands in his lap. Tattoos and rings became a blurry image of black and silver as the first tears ran down his face, finally relieving him of that heavy feeling in his chest. “I want him to be part of my life. But I am so scared. I don’t want to wake up one day and find out he was gone. I guess— it’s not that I don’t trust him, but he disappeared for so long. He didn’t bother to text or email me. He just left. Moved on. And now he’s back, and what if he decides that this isn’t what he wants? What if he decides  _ I  _ am not enough, and he leaves again?” 

“Babe, are we talking about just friendship here?” Liam questioned. 

“Yes,” Harry replied without hesitation, even if the doubts in his mind were screaming at him. There was a line he refused to cross and that was falling back in bed with Louis. No matter if he wanted it or not —and he refused to allow himself to want it— he wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, H. My protective side wants to tell you to move on completely and try to forget about him, but that didn’t work so well the last time. Besides, I don’t agree with Niall. I like Louis. I think, aside the whole being an asshole and leaving without a proper goodbye thing, he brought the best out of you. You were so happy when he was here.” 

“Also he was so unhappy when he was gone,” Niall reminded them. 

“Unhappy. Just say miserable, Niall.” 

“No, you weren’t miserable, H. I mean you were a little bit, but to be honest, you were doing fine. You wrote a book, you became a best-selling author, you had a boyfriend. To say your happiness depends on Louis’ presence is just wrong.” 

“That’s not what I said,” Liam argued. “But Louis did make him happy. There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging that. It doesn’t mean he cannot be happy without him.” 

“Hey,” Harry whined. “I am still here.” 

“Harry,” Niall said, “I will support you in whatever decision you make. I just want you to be happy.” 

“Me too, H.”

Harry sighed. This didn’t solve his problem. This conversation made him even more confused. Niall raised some good points; Liam, too. Honestly, he just wished he could turn back time and ask Louis to stay the first time. Or maybe never meet him. That would solve the problem, right? Although, it really wouldn't. Because meeting Louis changed him. It made him crave to live life. And part of living life is taking risks. 

“I told him we can try being friends for a little while and I’ll make my decision after. I think I need to see how I’m handling my emotions around him first. He agreed.” 

Niall nodded, Harry could see in the way he closed his eyes and breathed heavily that he still had doubts, but chose not to voice them. Liam didn’t voice his opinion either. He tightened his arms around him, and they spent the rest of the night watching TV and trying to distract Harry from his thoughts. 

As if there was a way to stop thinking about Louis. 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

 

They fell back into their friendship too easily.

It started with quick meetings after Louis’ work at a park nearby Gabi’s salon. They spend their limited time together eating shitty hot-dogs from the vendor at the park and discussing their time apart. Louis told him about living and working in Greece and how he couldn’t stop thinking about his family. He told him how one day he booked a ticket and returned home, hoping he’d find something better than what he left.

“I remember my mum’s face when she opened the door, tired and holding a fussy toddler in her arms,” Louis smiled fondly. “I’ve never felt more loved than the moment her eyes met mine, Haz, it was unreal,” Louis had said one day, after he told the story of going back home to Harry. He loved how sweet Louis was when he talked about his family, so he listened to him talking about it again and again. “I wish I had never left, but then again I wouldn’t be where I am now, if I hadn’t.”

Harry had agreed with a nod, finishing his hot-dog and secretly thanking his lucky stars that Louis had came into his life, even if it meant he was selfish for being grateful for that. He never said it though. You don’t say that to your ex who’s your friend now.

He had been reluctant to let Louis visit their apartment again. Liam wanted to meet him, but Niall was still sceptical and he didn’t want to put Louis in a difficult position, although he knew it was unavoidable at some point. Harry decided to ease Louis back into their lives slowly. First, he made sure to invite him on a day no one would be home.

The moment Louis walked in, exhausted eyes from working all day, and a familiar denim jacket hanging around his body, he looked like he belonged. It made Harry’s heart jump, as if nothing has happened. As if everything was the same as before. But then Louis hadn’t kicked off his shoes and jacket, nor did he throw Harry’s keys in the bowl next to the door. He had greeted Harry with a one-arm hug and proceeded to give him a bottle of wine.

“Couldn’t show up empty-handed,” he explained when Harry raised an eyebrow, taking the bottle from him.

“Louis, you really shouldn’t have. But thank you.”

They walked together inside the apartment, getting comfortable. Louis sat on a stool, taking his jacket off and placing it on the seat next to him while Harry found  them a couple dinner plates.

“I made lamb,” Harry said, now gathering silverware and serving utensils, “with green beans and potatoes.”

“Mmm,” Louis closed his eyes, rubbing his belly with a hand, “between you and my mum, I don’t know whose cooking I missed the most.”

“Your mum’s, obviously,” Harry said, but a tiny smile creeped onto his face.

“Eh, mum makes mean casserole and all, but you know your way around a kitchen, don’t you?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders, setting a plate in front of Louis and one next to him. “If it means anything, I missed your cereal mix-up, too,” Harry said.

Louis raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “We’re talking gourmet now. But, hey, I learned how to cook. You have to try my pancakes.”

“I can’t wait to die,” Harry joked and that earned him a middle finger from Louis. “No joke, I hope you like my lamb.”

“Of course I will, Haz, you made it.”

Harry rolled his eyes, a playful smirk painting his face. “Stop buttering me up.” He knelt down and opened the oven, using his rainbow mitts to take the baking tray out. He placed it on the counter, next to a platter, and he fussed around serving dinner. “Mind opening the wine?” Harry asked over his shoulder.

“Sure, Haz,” Louis sprung into action, joining Harry.

He opened the right drawer where they kept the corkscrew. It was a painful reminder of the fact that Louis had been part of Harry’s life in a way that was so different from whatever they were now. Louis didn’t seem to realize it though; he opened the wine with a pop and grabbed the glasses that Harry had left on the kitchen island, serving them both a bit more than they should probably have.

“Smells divine,” Louis said taking a sniff above the platter. “Looks even better. Fuck, Harry, you have to teach me how to cook.”

“Sure,” Harry muttered. Louis seemed so relaxed around him, in his house, as if he had never left. It shouldn’t be so easy. “Um, do you want to eat here or take it to the living room?”

“I like it here. Let’s have a proper dinner and then take the rest of the wine to the couch; what do you think?”

It sounded like the perfect bad decision. “Sure.”

They ate their meal sitting at the kitchen island. Louis praised Harry’s meal again and again, and if he was being honest, Harry was a bit proud; he had done a decent job. They kept to light conversation only:  a bit about Louis’ job, a bit about Harry trying to write a new novel, Louis asked about Liam and Niall. It was perfect. Almost like a date.

Harry didn’t want to let that thought ruin their evening together. He, Liam, and Niall had shared these kind of evenings often, so it wasn’t any different. No, Louis’ hand squeezing his arm didn’t mean anything. Neither did the way his insides churned whenever Louis smiled at him. They were friends. He should be happy it was so easy. He should be happy it was going well at all . It was all he had wanted, and the very reason he had agreed to try to be friends. Harry wanted it to work.

“That was amazing!” Louis said, patting his tummy. “Could have about two more plates of that.”

“I have more, if you want.”

“Nah, it will start coming out my nose. Thanks, though, I am sure Niall and Liam will enjoy it just as much.”

“Well,” Harry said, standing and gathering their empty plates to put them in the sink, “I have more than two portions left. I will put some in a tub for you to take home.”

“I’m fine, H. Seriously.” Louis jumped off the stool and helped him gather everything but the glasses, half-filled with their second serving of wine. “Maybe you should come over one day to cook for me though. It’s not as big as yours, but my flat is still cute.”

“Of course I’ll come, Lou. Tell me when you’re free.”

“Every day after 6pm?” Louis joked. “Although, I am looking for a second job. And maybe finishing high-school? I mean, I know it will be impossible to manage everything, but I am thinking if I make it work, then I might get some kind of aid or a scholarship and get in a college one day. Who knows?”

“What do you want to do, Lou?” Harry asked, taking his glass of wine and making his way to the couch.

Louis followed suit, sitting cross-legged next to him, after taking off his shoes. Too familiar. “I don’t really know. I doubt I can excel at maths or languages or science, but you never really know, right?”

“Hm… I predict a Nobel prize in your future,” Harry teased him.

“I’ll make sure you’ll be my honorary mention in my acceptance speech,” Louis played along, but Harry deep inside him believed it. Louis would truly go on to do great things. There was no way he’d fail in his life.

“Honorary?” Harry cocked an eyebrow. “That’s really flattering.”

“Well,” Louis sighed, lowering his eyes and playing with the rim of his glass, wiping a drop of red wine, “I wouldn’t be inspired to chase my dreams if it wasn’t for you.”

Harry contained a gasp, feeling so much. Louis was so much. Always had been. “That’s— I think you give me more credit than I am due.”

Louis rested his head on the back of the couch, smiling at Harry. “I think you need to let yourself understand the kind of person you are, Haz.”

Harry bit his bottom lip, hiding his smile inside against his shoulder. It shouldn’t mean so much. It shouldn't make Harry feel like he was on fire. He should be able to control his smile and the burning inside his chest. But Louis looked so soft and sweet, and Harry wanted to just reach out and touch. _Oh, fuck_. He really wanted to touch.

He shook his head to get rid of these desires, and left the rest of his wine on the table. He'd had enough. The alcohol was ruining his judgment. Louis finished his glass of wine, as they stayed in silence. Harry couldn’t take his eyes away from Louis and the way he looked back at him with his eyelids half-closed and a gentle smile. It was as if he was in a trance, a puppet to Louis’ every minuscule move. It was the loud bang of the door that made Harry shoot back and away from Louis, turning his head to see Niall standing in front of the door, keys in hand and mouth gaping.

“Niall,” Harry sighed, hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of this.

Louis stood up slowly, wiping his palms on his jeans before approaching Niall. “Hi, long time no see,” Louis said, offering his hand to him.

Niall thankfully took it, shaking it, but he still seemed puzzled. “Hi, yeah, it’s been a while. Harry?”

“Yes, Niall?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Harry sighed and got up, mouthing a quick apology towards a gobsmacked Louis, as he followed Niall to his bedroom. It wasn’t very polite from their part, but he could explain to Louis later. He hadn’t told him Niall’s reluctance to trust him again, hoping his friend would come around before it would be time to meet. He closed Niall’s bedroom door as quietly as he could, and turned around to face his friend.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked him when he saw him frowning.

“Harry… I know you agreed to be friends… but…” he paused for a moment and took a step towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “are you sure you’re not rushing into anything?”

“Hey, what?”

“I thought you were about to kiss,” Niall said. “I mean, okay, I worry, but I am not judging you. I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“We wouldn’t kiss!” Harry cried, because they wouldn’t. Harry had set limits, and he wouldn’t ignore them. “We were just talking.”

“Are you sure? You seemed close.”

“Niall.”

“Harry,” Niall sighed, “all I want is for you to be happy. If Louis makes you happy—”

“We wouldn’t kiss,” Harry repeated lowering his voice. “We are just friends, that’s all. We are comfortable around each other, just like I am comfortable with you and Liam.”

“Dude, trust me you’ve never looked at me like that.”

“We are just friends, there’s nothing there anymore,” Harry insisted.

Maybe he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Niall at this point, but Niall let it go with a sigh and a nod.

“Alright,” Niall said. “You know best. I am sorry I reacted like that. It’s none of my business if Louis comes over.”

“Will you go out there and please greet him properly?”

“Of course. I am still mad at the little asshole, but eh… I missed him,” Niall admitted with a smile. Relief spread inside Harry’s chest, as he followed Niall out to the living room, where they found Louis putting his shoes on, clearly getting ready to leave. Harry tried not to let disappointment show on his face, schooling his expression quickly. It felt weird whenever he saw Louis leaving, as if he would disappear forever.

“Oh, hey,” Louis said, raising his head. “Um, I think I better be going. It’s getting late.”

Harry smiled at him reassuringly, but Niall raised his eyebrows. “Eh, typical.”

“What?” Louis asked, approaching them with his jacket in hands.

“I was saying it’s typical for you to leave without telling. It’s just a joke,” Niall chuckled, but it came out more awkward than sarcastic. The atmosphere became heavy quickly, and Harry wished the floor would open and swallow him whole. “Come on, it’s funny. Louis, you have a sense of humor. Don’t tell me you lost it while you were gone for a year!”

Yeah, Niall was definitely an asshole right now, and, judging by the way Louis stared at them, he had certainly hit a nerve. Harry sighed, rubbing his face with a hand, missing the long mop of curls he would be hiding behind right about that moment.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Niall, but I was getting ready and waiting for you to come out so I could say goodbye to you.”

“Oh, hey, that's new!  You know how to say goodbye to people now. I can see it working out already,” Niall snarked.

“Hey,” Harry warned him.

“I think I better be going,” Louis directed at Harry, reaching for a quick hug that felt comforting for Harry, knowing well that there was no way he’d avoid arguing with Niall after the stunt he was pulling.

“I guess we won’t see you around again, it’s not like you left me and Liam as well without a proper excuse or a goodbye. And, hey, just because you didn’t even bother asking if we wanted to meet again, it doesn’t mean I get to talk, right?”

Oh! _Oh…_ Now it made a little more sense. Niall wasn’t just being protective. He was hurt. Harry hadn't considered  that his friends had lived with Louis and had gotten to love him as well. Louis pretty much had abandoned everyone when he left, but at least Harry had a letter and some memories. And now he had Louis making it up to him.

Louis left his jacket on the back of the couch as he walked back inside. “Niall, to be honest, I didn’t know if you were willing to have me back. I wanted to take it slow, hoping that if I proved myself to Harry, you guys would trust me again. I never thought I hurt your feelings, too. I was just the kid sleeping in your couch.”

“Honestly, Louis, that’s not how Liam and I treated you. I considered you my friend. Look, it’s okay, coming back doesn’t mean you want to deal with us. I am sorry I snapped. You have every right—”

“Niall, no!” Louis rushed to stop him. “No, don’t say that. You and Liam are important to me, too. I know I should have called or texted as soon as I came back, but I wanted Harry to give me the okay first.”

“Well, we do have our own personalities, you know.”

“I know, Niall,” Louis whispered, hanging his head and taking a deep breath. Harry wished he hadn’t been put on the spot like that. He had tried to be soft and understanding with him since the moment he received that first email, but Niall was unforgiving. On some level he understood where he was coming from. “I am sorry. I truly am, but you have to understand that Harry was and still is my priority. I was planning to apologise to you and Liam when Harry made his decision whether we’ll keep seeing each other or not. I am sorry,” he repeated. His eyes were as honest as anytime he apologized to Harry.

Niall stared at him for a moment, before he went in for a hug, taking Louis aback, who hesitated for a moment, shooting his eyes towards a smiling Harry, before he wrapped his arms around Niall, patting his back a couple of times and relaxing in the embrace.

“Missed you, you fucker, don’t disappear again or I’ll have Liam break your knees,” Niall’s voice came muffled as he rested his head on Louis’ shoulder.

Louis chuckled, rubbing Niall’s back, before he took a step back and looked Niall in the eyes. “I promise, Ni. I am not going anywhere this time.”

“Good.”

Louis said his goodbyes anyway, even though the issue was now resolved. He promised to visit the next day to see everyone and spend some time together. Niall respectfully excused himself  to go take a shower, leaving Harry and Louis standing across each other in front of the door. Harry shouldn’t feel this empty as he watched Louis getting ready to leave, he would be there the next day, he had to trust him.

“It was nice today, Haz,” Louis whispered, raising a hand to place it on Harry’s shoulder, but hesitating half way and ruffling his own hair instead. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Thanks for the wine. And sorry about Niall.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I deserved it.”

“Louis,” Harry breathed out a sigh, “you have to stop beating yourself up for everything.”

“I have. I am fine, promise.”

Harry wanted to take his eyes away from him, the blue was as dangerous as any other ocean, but he couldn’t. Not the way Louis looked back at him. Fuck, was he ready to fall again? He couldn’t do this to himself, he couldn’t hurt and suffer anymore. Besides, Louis never expressed any interest. Sure, he said some things that could be interpreted this way, but he never actually said he wanted Harry back.

“Good night, Haz,” Louis stood on the tip of his toes, reaching slowly to place a soft peck on Harry’s cheek, burning his skin, and his insides, and his mind.

Harry didn’t even have a chance to reply, before Louis took off, leaving him a mess of confusion and desire. A big _what if_ kept circling his mind, until he went to bed.

 

~*~

 

Louis’ body felt heavy on top of him, grounding him in a way that Harry had missed. His fingers gentle, yet unforgiving, were working him up, as Harry struggled to find the right words, his breath stolen with every touch of Louis’ lips.

Harry’s hands shot up, tangling his fingers through Louis’ hair and pulling him for a deep kiss, one of those that Harry had missed. Filthy, but honest. His body was on fire, his chest moving fast as he panted against Louis, his nerves tingling as Louis’ fingers barely grazed his prostate, bringing Harry closer to the edge. Louis rested his forehead on Harry’s, his mouth swallowing Harry’s pleas.

“Please,” Harry broke away, a single tear escaping his eye. “Please, Louis, please.”

Louis nodded rapidly, sucking Harry’s bottom lip on his way down to worshipping his body, every inch of his exposed neck, his chest, everywhere he could reach. Harry let out a soft moan, one that was turned to a whine as Louis pulled out his fingers and kneeled between Harry’s legs. His inked naked body was almost too much —Harry felt overwhelmed just looking at him— but he couldn’t take his eyes away, focusing on the way he took his cock in his hand, stroking it loosely, before he aligned himself to Harry’s entrance.

Harry begged, wanting more, wanting this for a long time. He placed an arm above his head, grabbing the headboard and taking a fistfull of his sheets with the other. Louis started moving slowly, acting as if Harry would break at any moment. He bottomed out, a soft moan leaving his pretty mouth. Harry wanted to drown in all the sounds he made. He felt so full of him, ready to combust at any moment, as Louis moved inside him carefully, giving Harry a moment to adjust.

Harry’s nails broke the skin on Louis’ back, wanting more, needing him closer. “Please, Lou, I love you, please.”

Louis gave him everything he wanted, turning the burning ache to pleasure, eliminating any space between them, giving and taking, until none of them had anything left but the feeling of each other’s bodies against theirs. Harry was close, almost there, a few thrusts away before the ultimate pleasure. He panted at Louis to give him what he needed, but Louis wasn’t listening, dragging the pleasure out with slow movements of his hips.

“Louis,” Harry whined, frustrated, “I need to come. Louis, Louis, fuck— please.”

Harry closed his eyes, shooting his head back, chest feeling heavy with the need to feel Louis even closer, but there was no space between them. Something was missing. Harry opened his eyes again gazing into Louis’, grinding his hips upwards, asking for more.

“Fuck, Louis, please, say something, do something, please.”

“I got you, darling. Shh,” Louis reached and wiped Harry’s tears. “I love you.”

“You do?”

“I do. Promise.”

Harry opened his eyes suddenly, gasping for air, as he shot up in his bed. The bedroom was empty and cold; the moonlight wasn’t enough to shed light in the dark corners of his room. Harry looked around, realising that everything was a dream. His heart shattered inside his chest. Unable to contain his tears, he lied back on the pillow and let the tears flow freely, ignoring the burning ache he had for release. For Louis.

The emotions took him by surprise. He tried to fall back asleep, pretend he never had that dream, that it didn’t mean anything, that he only had it because they had spent the evening together, but he couldn’t fool himself anymore. He allowed himself to cry a bit, wondering if the only solution was to ask Louis for some space. He couldn’t go back, but he couldn’t prevent old emotions from haunting his mind. Losing Louis again seemed impossible to deal with, but being around him, loving him, without being able to do anything more seemed torturous.

He gave up on his efforts to calm down after a while, getting up from bed before dawn and going for a much needed shower. He did everything mechanically, barely greeting his friends, before they went about their days, leaving him alone for several hours, waiting for them to come back. He spent the day on the couch, forcing himself to ignore the dream and Louis. But everything reminded him of those blue eyes, that face, the feeling of his hand touching him.

Harry expected for these feelings to grow, but he was hoping it would be different this time. He was the one who had fallen first in the past and apparently learning from his mistakes wasn’t a skill he had developed since then. Louis seemed perfectly capable of being around him without developing any feelings. Apparently Harry was weak.

The day passed way too fast, but what surprised Harry was when Louis arrived at his place before Niall and Liam. Harry almost didn’t buzz him in, panicking with the idea of being alone with him after the dream he had. But it would be unfair to treat Louis badly because he couldn’t control his desire and had inappropriate dreams. Oh, God! He had to face Louis after dreaming of being fucked by him.

With a heavy sigh, he opened the door to a panting, sweaty Louis, the image of his messy hair and rosy cheeks much more suggestive to Harry’s eyes than it really was. Oh, great. Just great.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked reluctantly, standing on the side to make room for Louis to walk in.

Louis fanned his face, taking off his jacket and pulling the hoodie over his head with quick movements. No, Harry didn’t notice the exposed tanned skin as the T-shirt Louis wore underneath rode up his body. “I walked all the way here and why is your elevator broken?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. They said they will take care of it soon. Sorry I didn’t warn you.”  

“It’s— It’s okay,” Louis panted. He paused for a moment taking a couple of deep breaths, while Harry closed the door and walked back to the couch, followed by Louis. “Am I too early?”

“The boys aren’t here yet, but it’s okay.”

Louis plopped onto the couch, like he belonged there all along, making himself comfortable. Harry stood on the side staring at him and trying hard not to think of the images from his dream. It would be easier if those images hadn’t been his reality not long ago. How could Louis be so cool and calm around him? It was as if Harry was the idiot who never got over his ex and Louis was the carefree dude, who never minded coming back, because he never really felt any pain.

“Okay, what are we doing tonight? Movie? Video games?”

Harry opted to sit in the armchair, avoiding any proximity with Louis. “I think Liam said he’ll bring dinner, and we were planning to marathon Sense8.”

“Oi, nice. I haven’t watched it yet.”

“Still? You had promised you’d watch it a year ago.” Harry’s effort to maintain a chit-chatty conversation sounded awkward to his own ears.

Louis shrugged his shoulders, calming down from his breathless state slowly. “Well, I never got into it. But since you’ll watch it, I’d love to join.” Harry was distracted by the way Louis unwittingly raised his T-shirt to scratch his tummy as he spoke. Harry tracked a faint line of smooth hair running down his abdomen and disappearing beneath his sweats. Harry could imagine— What the fuck? No. Louis wasn’t allowed to do this to him.

Harry jumped up and ran to the kitchen intending to get a glass of water, but truly needing to get away of the image of a chill Louis on his couch. The distant familiarity pained him. “Want something to drink?” he yelled at Louis over his shoulder, avoiding staring at him.

“Just some water, love, thanks.”

Harry didn’t feel shivers down his spine when Louis called him _love_ with that raspy, sweet voice.  The air didn’t feel restricted from the memories of their past selves in daily similar settings. Harry refused to let those thoughts rule him. He just had a dream, that was why his mind traveled to different scenarios and why memories flooded back. Give it a couple of days Harry would forget and move on. Right?

“Hey, need any help?” Louis’ voice coming from right behind him made Harry jump and almost spill the water all over himself. “Haz, are you okay?” Louis approached just a little closer, placing a gentle arm on Harry’s back.

Why was Louis always so much? Why couldn’t Harry keep a logical distance? Why did his insides burn with the desire to turn around and reach? Live his dream. He couldn’t do that to himself and Louis. This raw ache was so wrong and stupid. Harry chunked down the glass of water, ignoring Louis’ question, before he turned around and practically ran away.

“Harry, hey, Haz, what’s going on?” Louis followed Harry back to the living room.

Harry dared to take a quick look at Louis’ confused face and regretted it. He wanted to be honest, but he didn’t know how to not make things awkward between them. The possibility of things not working out was coming closer, making Harry choke on his words. He sat on the couch, rubbing his face with trembling hands. He needed some space.

Louis probably didn’t get that Harry wanted to run as far away from him as possible, because he approached him and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Ha—”

“This was a mistake,” Harry blurt out, turning to look at a gobsmacked Louis. “I am sorry,” Harry whispered, regret running deep in his bones, as he got ready to ask Louis to leave. Forever. He couldn’t do this to them.

“I don’t understand, we were doing just fine,” Louis muttered, a wrinkle running between his eyebrows.

“You were doing just fine. You and your laissez-faire attitude. Why did you come back, Louis?”

Louis took a step back, his arms dropped on his sides. He looked at Harry as if he was trying to understand a different language. God, Harry should have given an excuse, instead of opening this discussion, but something inside him needed to know more. He needed to understand.

“I told you, I want to be frie—”

“Is that it? Just friends?” Harry asked, his interrogative tone so foreign in his own ears. “Because it doesn’t feel like that to me when we’re together.”

Louis sighed, closing his eyes for a minute, his long eyelashes resting prettily on his cheeks. Harry was going mad with the two sides of his brain screaming at him to either kiss him or throw him out of the house.

“You’re right, it doesn’t. Because no matter how hard I try, I cannot stop myself from having feelings for you. But Harry, I tried not to take it too far. I don’t think I have been inappropriate in any way. If I have, I apologise. I am sorry.”

“No,” Harry said, knowing full well that Louis didn’t cross the lines. His own mind did. “You don’t get to come back and have feelings for me, Louis. You left. You wrote a shitty note and left without even giving me the chance to say goodbye.” And there it was. The one thing that Harry always dreamed of saying to Louis. He had kept it locked in the back of his mind for so long, but now it was out there and he needed actual answers. Not generic philosophies and empty apologies. He needed to know.

“Oh, wow,” Louis breathed out. “Shitty note? Okay, first of all I apologised for that and—”

“But you never explained, Louis. Why did you leave?” Harry raised his voice, exasperated.

“Because you never asked me to stay!” Louis yelled back.

They both closed their mouths, but angry eyes did all the talking. Harry couldn’t believe that Louis actually put the blame on him. How dared he? He was who abandoned him in the night.

“At least I cared. You were the one who was eager to get away from here. You were the one who moved on with his life, having the time of your life in whatever island you were working, and acting as if I never even existed until you read my book and decided to feel actual guilt. Would you come back, if the book didn’t exist? Have you even thought of me at all?”

Harry couldn’t believe he was yelling at Louis; this was so out of character for him. Louis looked hurt, his eyes glistening with tears ready to spill, his nostrils flaring in an obvious effort to keep his emotions in check. Harry was too much of a crying mess to know if he even cared how much his words had cut; he was tired of pretending he wasn't still wounded.

“You—” Louis coughed, reaching for his jacket and hoodie slowly, “you have no idea, Harry.”

He grabbed his things and before Harry had a chance to reply, he was out the apartment, banging the door behind him. Harry fell on his knees, feeling physically hurt, as if Louis had ripped out his heart and had taken it with him. He tried to breathe, but the lump in his throat was blocking the air. He was gone, once again Louis left him, and this time it felt even worse. Harry didn’t try to contain his tears, sobbing against the couch pillow that he grabbed and hugged close to his chest. He has been so stupid thinking he was over Louis. So naive hoping they could be just friends, when Harry was deeply fucking in love with him.  

Liam and Niall found him on the floor, rushing to check up on him and making sure he wasn’t hurt, before they started asking a million questions, none of which Harry could really answer. He only whispered three words, between uncontrollable sobs.

“Louis is gone.”

His friends looked at each other and then stared at him in sympathy and Harry hated himself for going back to this state. He hated himself and he hated Louis for making loving him Harry’s only option. He tried to explain what happened to an angry Niall and a confused Liam, but he barely got two sentences out, before the buzzer went off.

  
  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

The buzzing persisted, the eager sound making Harry nauseous.

Liam tried to help Harry up to his feet, while Niall ran to ask who was at the door. They didn’t expect anyone; none of their friends would appear unannounced. The last thing Harry needed at the moment was company; even Liam’s arms touching his back felt restrictive rather than soothing. Harry wanted to run away. He wanted to go out and just walk around, forget, but it was too late to wander in the city, and he was an outright mess. 

“Who is it?” Harry heard Niall ask, as he wiped the tears, sniffling weakly. 

“It’s Louis,” came the muffled voice.  Harry’s fingers went numb. 

“Leave!” Niall yelled at him, releasing the button, but the buzzing came back right away. 

Liam left Harry’s side, and glared at Niall, shaking his head. “Niall, Jesus, will you chill?” He went on to buzz Louis in against Niall’s angry protest of “don’t let the asshole in.”

Harry wanted to see him. A masochistic side of him needed to see Louis again, even though he knew he would end up hurt again. But there was the logical part of his brain that begged Harry to hide, save them both from fighting. Harry stayed in place, numb and confused as to why Louis even came back, while Niall and Liam argued whether they should have opened the door to him or not. 

The knocking on the door sounded urgent and angry. Harry stepped back, using his sleeve to wipe his face clean, as Liam ignored Niall and opened the door to Louis. Harry didn’t expect to see him like that; he had never seen Louis in such state, but the man looked like he had been crying, his eyes red and his face blotched. Harry guessed he didn’t look any better, because as soon as Louis’ eyes fell on him, his whole face changed. The angry lines on his forehead and around the mouth morphed into those of a shattered man. 

“Harry,” he whispered, taking a step forward. Niall stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“You better leave, dude.” 

Louis didn’t seem willing to take his eyes away from Harry, sending shivers down his body. 

“Seriously, I warned you.” 

“I just came here to bring something, and I’ll be on my way,” Louis threw quickly towards Niall, raising his hands. Only then, Harry noticed that he was holding a shoe box. 

“No,” Niall stopped him. “You ruined your second chance. You made him cry.” 

Harry sighed, but Liam was quick to pull Niall away. “Will you shut the fuck up already, Horan? It’s none of our business.” 

“No,” Louis said, taking a weary step inside the house. “Niall is right. I fucked up, because I hid the truth. Harry, can I talk to you, please?” 

Harry was taken aback by all of this, he had no idea what was happening, what anything meant anymore. When Louis walked out the door, he thought he had lost him forever. Harry gave a nod to Niall and Liam to leave them alone, and although Niall was ready to protest against the idea, he followed Liam to his bedroom, giving them space. 

“I can’t believe you said I didn’t care, Harry,” Louis whispered, once they were alone. 

He approached him with small steps, uncertain, and it broke Harry’s heart into tiny pieces. Harry's breath caught and he felt his hands start shaking.  

“Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was torn and broken and alone in a new country, away from you, away from the first and only man I’ve ever truly loved. You said I wasn’t hurt, that I moved on. Harry, I never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Then why, Louis? Why did you leave? Why didn’t you text or call? Why didn’t you bother explaining yourself?” Harry needed to know in order to move on. 

“I left because you never asked me to stay.” 

Harry lowered his head, guilt and remorse suffocating him. “I didn’t think you wanted to stay, Louis.” 

Louis shook his head. “Alright, I believe you. You are dumb, Harry Styles, sometimes. I mean you think I never had real feelings for you? I never even had a chance to get over you. Do you know how I felt when I saw you happy next to another man? I broke both our hearts when I left, and I regret it every single day, but I was tortured with the idea that I’d never get to hold you again. You moved on and I didn’t.” 

“Louis—” 

“I wrote to you,” he argued. “Every day until we met again. I never dared to send these letters, because I thought I was protecting you.” 

Harry sighed, anger and sadness and confusion exhausting him. He didn’t want to fight anymore. “That’s your mistake, Lou. Let people decide if they want to be protected from whatever you think you’re protecting them. Like what did you think you were protecting me from? Your presence? Your feelings? Fuck, I needed all those things.” 

Louis shook his head, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Harry, have you ever been told you are an abomination? Have you ever been told that your mere existence hurts the people who love you? I don’t mean by society, I mean being told directly.”

Harry stared at Louis, every fibre of his existence screaming at him to comfort the man in front of him. But he was still hurt, he needed that comfort, too —or at least for once to protect himself, instead of letting others make that decision for him. “No,” he admitted. “Not really.” 

“I was. Harry, I always thought people were better without me. I thought I was a burden. And, yes, I understand now that I should have given you a chance to say goodbye, but I couldn’t. Leaving you in that bed, asleep, after I gave myself to you, everything, hurt me physically. If I had to see your face and hear your voice say goodbye, I’d collapse. It would make everything real and final. So I ran. And it was wrong, but please, Harry, please, don’t ever say again that I never cared. I was in love with you, and I never stopped loving you. Yes, I came back hoping that I could have you back. Maybe one day. I was dumb thinking I stood a chance. But what I said about us being friends wasn’t a lie. I wanted to have you in my life as anything. I just needed you. I still do.” 

They both cried, Louis pausing his long speech and staring at Harry as if he expected a reaction, but Harry didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t find the right words to express all his thoughts. He actually didn’t have any concrete thoughts. Everything was a mess. He was a mess. 

Louis took it upon himself to talk again. “I didn't mean for this to happen, I never thought I'd have the chance to ask you back. You had a boyfriend. I never intended to ruin your life. But, Harry, I won’t lie, love. I still have feelings for you.” 

“I can’t do this, Lou,” Harry whispered. “We can’t do this to each other.” 

“I can. I am willing to try. I didn’t know there was an option, but I want you to know that I want it, Harry. I want it so much, always did.” 

Harry shook his head. Took a step back. How could Louis do this to him? How could he appear all perfect and lovely and ask him back, when they knew —they both knew— that the chances of working out as a couple were slim? How could Louis put him in a position to say no, when all he wanted to do was say yes? 

“I’ll leave,” Louis whispered, when he didn’t get a reply.  “I’ll give you some time. Think about what you want, think about what matters and what doesn’t, and I’ll be there whenever you decide.” He dropped the box he was holding on the couch, before he took a last longing look at Harry. “I love you, Haz. I mean it. It’s up to you to decide what to do with this love, but know that it exists, and it won’t go away.” 

Harry sighed and opened his mouth to talk, not sure what he wanted to say, but Louis stopped him with a gentle wave of his hand. 

“Please, think about it. Take your time. These letters are yours. It’s up to you whether you want to read them or not. I’ll be on my way.” He paused with his hand on the knob, turning around to look at Harry. “I’m sorry.” 

Harry stared at the old shoe box, unsure if he was ready to face Louis’ hidden emotions. He had fooled himself that Louis had never cared. Really, it was the only way to convince himself to try and move on. Now that lie was right in front of him, and he had to confront it alone. 

“Bye, Haz,” Louis whispered, opening the door and disappearing again. 

  
~*~

 

Harry stayed up all night, staring at the box resting at the end of his bed. 

He had avoided Liam and Niall, leaving the interrogation for breakfast. He felt too tired to confront them, especially Niall, who couldn’t get it through his thick skull that Louis wasn’t the bad guy, that they were both fucked up. Thankfully, Liam had shown mercy and had guided a robotic Harry to his room, helped him change into something comfortable to sleep in, and then left him alone. 

Louis’ confession had changed everything. Harry wanted so much to take him back, his heart ached with need, but he was so scared. What if they couldn't make it work? How do you mend a heart broken twice? Knowing now that Louis had suffered just as much made him even more weary. Hurting Louis was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t dare to open that box and read those letters, unable to bear proof of how he already had. 

He couldn’t avoid them forever though. He tried to sleep, but he kept tossing and turning, giving up after a couple of hours. That was how 4am found him sitting on his bed, the box at his feet and hands trembling as he opened it. 

Letters and postcards spilled all over his bed as he turned the box upside down, an image that probably belonged in another decade. Harry searched through the various papers, checking the dates at the top right of the paper, until he found the one he wanted.  _ November 12th, 2016 _ . The day Louis left. 

 

_ Dear Harry, _

 

_ I wish I knew what to say. I don't have a way with words like you do, but I will make an effort. I am at the airport, waiting for my flight, but I can’t stop thinking about how I want to run back to you. Leaving you was the hardest thing I had to do. You looked so gorgeous in our bed. I can’t stop calling it ours. We shared so many moments there, moments that helped me realise how much I love you. Fuck, I love you so much.  _

_ I am mad at you, I wanted you to ask me to stay. I know you wanted to ask me, but you never opened your mouth, you stupid, big oaf. I wanted to slap you for being so dense, but, my Harry, I realised that we would never work out in the end. You’re not for someone like me. So I’ll stay with the memories of what we lived together.  _

 

_ I love you forever, _

_ Louis.  _

 

Harry stared at the paper, wrinkled and stained with tears, both Louis’ and his. Louis. He thought he wasn’t enough. How on earth could he think that? Louis was always more than enough, he was everything to Harry. The very idea of Louis running away because he felt inadequate made Harry sick. He let the letter drop from his hands and picked up another one with the same date. 

 

_ Dear Harry, _

 

_ I’m on the plane, leaving the country, leaving you. I can’t breathe, it’s as if I left everything behind. I can still feel you, smell you all around me, it doesn’t feel real yet, but it is. It’s over and I hate myself so much.  _

_ I am sorry I wasn’t enough. I am sorry I left you. I am sorry I didn’t try harder. I am sorry. You deserve the world, babe. I am sorry I couldn’t offer it to you.  _

 

_ Love you, _

_ Louis.  _

 

Harry’s heart shattered into million pieces inside his chest. Fuck, he had no idea how Louis felt all along. He had no idea that everything he did stemmed from insecurities rather than commitment issues. Harry’s arms felt heavy and empty, he should have Louis in his arms, comforting him, telling him that he was enough. He didn’t search for the dates now, he just picked up a random letter and started reading. 

 

_ Harry,  _

 

_ What have I done? Fuck, what did I do to you? I can’t believe I let my selfishness hurt you. I only thought about myself, never thinking that I was hurting you leaving you behind.  _

_ I read your book. When I saw your name on the cover, I felt so proud and happy, I knew you’d  make it one day. I always knew that a man like you would make it big. You’re so special. I read your book, I had no idea what it would be about, I never expected to be about us, about me. I thought you had forgotten about me long ago. Stupid as I was, I hoped you were happy without me, even if that hope was hurting me. Your book made me realise how wrong I was, how hurtful.  _

_ I am sorry, my love. I am sorry for what I did to you, the pain I caused, everything. If I knew the doubts and insecurities I’d cause you by leaving, I’d stay by your side forever. Or for as long as you needed me.  _

 

_ I am sorry for everything, _

_ Louis.  _

 

Harry clutched the letter close to his chest, absorbing Louis’ words, his truth, feeling a warmth deep in his bones. He was selfish, so selfish for needing reassurance of Louis’ feelings. He didn’t like the idea Louis was hurting, but it meant Louis actually cared about him, about them. He picked up another one. 

 

_ My Harry, _

 

_ You’re not mine anymore. You’re someone else’s. He’s gorgeous and seems nice. You seem happy next to him. I hope he treats you right. I hope he treats you better than I did. I guess I had to lose you to realise how much I need you. Fuck, I need you, Harry. You made me a better human. You inspired me to find my family, you inspired me to take care of myself, you inspired me to reach for my dreams. I wanna do all that stuff, but none of that will mean anything without you.  _

_ It hurts. It hurts so much seeing you happy with another man, but at least now I know you moved on. I know there’s no point in living in the past. I’ll try to not need you anymore. I’ll try to stop loving you.  _

 

_ Still yours, _

_ Louis.  _

 

Harry took a few deep breaths through his nose, fighting back the new round of tears. Facing Louis’ emotions was hard, but knowing that Harry had caused him pain, too, albeit unwillingly, made Harry want to jump out his own skin. He had been blind to the situation before, putting the blame on Louis, when both of them had been stupid. He read through the letters and postcards, dawn finding him with red, puffy eyes and a heavy heart. Some letters were longer, confessions of love that made Harry feel warm, some were short notes of “ _ I miss you _ ”. 

He needed coffee and a shower. There was no way to process this properly. His thoughts were all over the place. He wanted to run and find him, but also he was so scared they would fuck this up again. Both of them. He dragged his exhausted body out of the bed, taking the last letter with him to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and maybe a granola bar to eat. All the crying and the adrenaline rush crashing down had made him hungry. He read the letter as he walked out of his room, hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with Liam or Niall yet. 

 

_ Dear Harry, _

 

_ I am done pretending I can do this without you. I have to try. I have to apologise, right the wrongs, and maybe you can accept me back into your life. I don’t care if you have a boyfriend now. I don’t care if I have to see you happy with someone else.  At least I’ll get to be around you, be your friend. I am selfish, but I need you.  _

_ I’m coming back and this time around I am not leaving.  _

 

_ I still love you, _

_ Louis.  _

 

Harry dropped the letter on the counter and let out a long, pained sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, mentally commanding his headache to go away. Why the fuck couldn’t he let himself take Louis back when that was all he wanted? He had apologised, he had explained himself, and he cared. Louis cared. This doubt— Harry wasn’t sure if he was doubting Louis or himself. Maybe he was really doubting their Karma. Harry was stupid like that sometimes, but fate meant something to him, and he was afraid their past was a sign they couldn’t make it work. It wasn’t written in the stars for them. 

He went over the last letter, Louis’ despair spilling out of the paper. There was no doubt Louis wanted to make it work. He had come back for him. He left everything behind basically just for Harry. He had made his effort, walked his shared part of the distance towards Harry. All Harry had to do now was to decide if he wanted to take those few steps to meet him halfway. 

  
~*~

 

Five days later, Harry couldn’t stop reading the letters again. He had sent a text to Louis to ask him for a little time, but if he was honest, he knew what his final decision would be. He just needed to prepare himself for this, make sure that he was doing the right thing. As distance made him more mopey than ever, Harry resorted to holding Louis’ letters in his arms, tracing the ink with his fingers, feeling all those emotions he had poured on paper. Harry had been trying to play with words and make a living out of it for a long time, but  Louis and his blunt honesty made Harry feel like no book or poem had ever made him feel before. 

The hardest part of his decision was explaining everything to Liam and Niall, scared he would be judged or they would disagree with him, but he found two warm sets of arms hugging him tightly and supporting him. That gave him a tiny bit of courage to contact Louis again and ask him to meet at the café on a Sunday morning, knowing that the place would be relatively quiet and they would get to have a much needed talk before any decisions. 

He tried to talk to his mom and Gemma about it, but they’d never met Louis, they couldn’t really understand what was so special about him, so they gave him a generic advice of “put yourself first” and “follow your heart.” Useful advice, but it didn’t make the butterflies in his tummy disappear or the doubts go away. 

So Sunday morning, right around 10am, Harry made his way to the café, walking down the familiar streets with a nervous skip to his feet, using his earphones and music to try to calm down the giddy energy that guided his body towards Louis. He was two blocks away but he still felt as if he was gravitating towards him, eager to see his face, hoping that he wouldn’t face the same Louis that was in his flat almost a week ago. He never wanted to see Louis upset again, especially because of him. 

He walked into the café, holding the door open a tad longer, as his eyes searched for Louis, reliving some kind of déjà vu. There he was, standing in line waiting for his drink; Louis. He looked as beautiful as ever, almost ethereal, swallowed by a big hoodie and a leather jacket. Harry contained his urge to run to him and instead walked further in, letting the door close behind him as he approached with short, careful steps. 

He placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder, taking him aback, and that moment, just that minor contact, made Harry’s insides churn. Louis jumped on the spot, turning around, alarmed but calming down as soon as his eyes, his beautiful, honest eyes, met Harry’s. 

“Hi,” Louis whispered, looking down for a moment. “You came.” He said it as if he didn’t believe it and it broke Harry’s heart. Because he’d never abandon Louis, he’d never stand him up. But the way he had acted had planted seeds of doubt inside Louis; it was obvious. 

“Of course,” Harry responded softly. “How are you, Lou?” 

“Doing okay. I just ordered, but let me treat you to something. What do you want?” 

Harry bit his bottom lip and smiled back at Louis. “How about some tea?” 

“Tea?” Louis let out a small gasp. 

“Yeah, for old time’s sake.” 

Louis didn’t add anything, he turned around giving the new order, remembering perfectly Harry’s tea preference. He paid, and they waited together in silence while the new guy made their orders. They didn’t have to wait long, so soon they were sitting at a secluded table in the back corner, tasting the first drinks of the day and trying to get over the awkward moment. Harry didn’t know how to say what he wanted. He was scared that maybe he had misunderstood, maybe he had misinterpreted Louis’ words, but then again, how do you misinterpret “I love you”? 

“Lou—” Harry said, but Louis rushed to interrupt him. 

“I’m sorry,” he placed a hand over Harry, warm and gentle. “I didn’t want to mess this up. I am really sorry.” 

Harry couldn’t hold back anymore. He reached and touched, like he wanted for so long, the way he had been dreaming to do. He got up from his seat and knelt next to Louis, placing his hands on Louis’ face and ignoring any wandering eyes. He didn’t care. Not when he had the world in his hands. 

“I’m sorry, too. I wish I knew, I wish I said something.” 

“It’s okay,” Louis mumbed, his eyes roaming Harry’s face. Harry pulled him gently to rest their foreheads together. He smelled so familiar, but felt so different. The uncertainty was slowly fading away, replaced by all those emotions that Louis expressed in his letters. “I just— Harry, do you understand what you mean to me?” 

Harry nodded, closing his eyes for a moment and inhaling deeply, trying to control his tears, but it was impossible. There it was, his chance at happiness. “I love you, too, Lou. I love you so much it physically hurts me being away from you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, nosing Harry’s cheeks, almost as if he was begging for a kiss. Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but he had to say a few things first. 

“Don’t be sorry anymore. I’m here, and you’re here. We can make it work, right? It will be fucking hard, but we can do it. Just tell me you’ll trust me and talk to me and love me, as much I will love you. That’s all I want, Lou. I want to hear those words from your mouth. Make them real.” 

“I love you,” Louis whispered, pouring his soul in his raspy voice. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

Harry couldn’t hold back anymore, he grabbed Louis by his hoodie and pulled him for a kiss, harsh and messy, but it didn’t matter, they had all their lives ahead of them to worship each other, now he just wanted to feel. 

“Please,” Louis whispered, “please tell me that this is a good thing, I can’t bear to lose you after this.” 

“Always good things for you, babe,” Harry murmured, peppering Louis’ face with kisses. “Only good things from now on.” 

“Fuck, it feels like I’m dreaming,” Louis laughed against Harry’s lips. “Fuck.” 

“We’re gonna do this, Lou. We’re gonna do this right.” 

They kissed again, and again, drinks and people forgotten. They spilled into soft kisses all their ache, all that time they’d spent apart. Harry felt like something settled inside him as soon as he voiced his decision to Louis. It felt like things were right again. 

He had finally brought Louis home. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are appreciated. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.   
> Ri. xx
> 
> PS: There's a rebloggable post [here](https://rosegoldhlfics.tumblr.com/post/177371399036/a-hard-rains-gonna-fall-by-rosegoldhl-like-an)


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